For There Are Many
by D-Rosell
Summary: Long before the arrival of Jack and the death of the king of hell, Crowley, the Winchesters faced evil forces like no other. Fighting against an enemy they couldn't win, whose tentacles reached far and wide, the hunters were outnumbered and underpowered in a battle they did not understand nor knew. Character: Sam, Dean, Crowley, Castiel, Bobby, Cassie, Ruby...
1. Chapter 1

**Título: For There Are Many**  
**Summary: Long before the arrival of Jack and the death of the king of hell, Crowley, the Winchesters faced evil forces like no other. Fighting against an enemy they couldn't win, whose tentacles reached far and wide, the hunters were outnumbered and underpowered in a battle they did not understand nor knew.**  
**Character: Sam, Dean, Crowley, Castiel, Bobby, Cassie, Ruby, and others**

* * *

**1**

**FIRST DEGREE**

Castiel is driving down a dark road in complete silence. The angel had recently discovered that, despite his ability to transport from one side to another, he quite enjoys the ritual of driving. He likes the quietness of it, paying attention to the road, and the landscapes around him. It was a perfect time for reflection, contemplation, and understanding of God's fine work. The more he drives through these man-made roads, the more he grows fond of the wonders Man had made over the years. From walking in all fours to building long roads and tall buildings, it was truly an amazing creature. He adored everything about it. Yes, even the reckless ones who drove as if the road belonged to them. He enjoys the entire experience of driving, especially at night. That's when he can hear every living and breathing creature from the smallest of rats to the owl hunting for a midnight snack. It's amazing. It's like the night was alive.

So, there he is, crossing from one state to the next, just him and this beat-up old crusty green truck. After this troublesome meeting with one of the Angels, driving is good to set his ideas straight. In the beginning, he was skeptical of this meeting. It was always alarming when the Angels called him. However, this situation was problematic if it truly appeared to be true.

All of a sudden, the angel notices a figure lying on the side of the road. At first, he thinks it's an animal that met his fatal fate, however, upon close inspection he realizes it's a human body. He begins to slow down, pulling the truck on the side of the dark road and stops. Swiftly, he gets out of the truck, looks around, making sure it isn't a trap of some sort. He begins approaching the body identifying what appears to be a dirty white dress. It was a woman's body. She's lying on her side, so Cass couldn't see her face. Her feet are bare and bloody, with bruises on the soles as if she had been walking or running for a long time. Her legs show several cuts and bruises, including a gunshot wound on her thigh, which probably caused her to faint from blood loss. The angel crouches down and touches the woman's neck. There's a faint pulse, but she's still alive. He then attends the wound, stopping the bleeding and healing it at the same time. As he inspects the woman, Castiel notices the bruises around the woman's arms: deep cuts still fresh and old ones already healed, her wrists have rope burns and her figure nails were broken.

Around her neck, there were also rope burns, as well as small cuts. He wonders if she had tried to kill herself at some point or someone else did it to her. Her dress is torn in the back, so Castiel lifted the piece of the fabric and sees what appeared to marks similar to when someone was violently whipped. What creature could have done this? Humans had nice things, but they could also be vile of creatures showing little to no mercy to those around them. Sometimes, for no reason.

The angel turns the woman's face and sees her beauty. With skin the color of dark molasses, her face was mostly spared from the brutally her body endured. She has a small bruise on her head from falling probably, but nothing more. Her hair is full of dark curls that fell to her shoulders.

The angel lifts the body of the young woman carefully, taking her into his arms. Castiel carries her to the truck and places her on the back seat, covering the young woman with his trench coat.

As he closes the door, the Angel feels a presence he could not describe. He had never felt it before. It was a wave of darkness, cold energy, something menacing staring him back through the empty road. The Angel steps to the middle of the road looking back from where he had come but saw nothing but a nightly mist. And yet, the feeling of dread remains. He fears something would lunge at him, but nothing happens aside from the quiet pulse of the nightlife.  
Slowly, he returns to his truck. As he sits behind the wheel the feeling of dread abandons him. It was probably just anxiety or nervousness from the situation. He looks at the back seat to find the woman is still unconscious. He touches her forehead, hoping to hear her, but heard nothing. She's deep down.  
He turns to face the road and drives off continuing his journey, this time stepping hard to the gas pedal.

The Angel was right to feel uneasy. Hidden amid the night, two men dressed in black with long hair the color of blood observe him closely. The plan was in motion.

* * *

Sam and Dean had just returned to the bunker after a long hunt. Vampires were getting hard and harder to spot and kill. Knowing of hunters, these creatures had become smart, dividing into small packs, killing less and moving fast.

After a shower, a nasty dinner composed of hamburgers, fries, and beer, both of them retreated to their bedrooms. While Sam slept in his room recovering from a first-degree encounter with a vampire, Dean is awake still in his room. At times, the memories from hell would haunt his mind. The screaming, the torturing, the demons around him, the suffering. He's not the same man. He's not alright and those memories would never fade. He's broken into a million pieces. For Sam and Cas, he would make the best to swallow his PTSD and be the best Dean he could. One never really surpasses trauma. There are bad times, there are good times. There are nights he sleeps, but tonight he couldn't bat an eye.

He refuses to stay in bed, so he gets up, picks up his jacket, and walks out of his room. Quietly, he walks past Sam's room, from where he could hear him snore and walks up to the stairs. He closes the heavy bunker's door behind him as quietly as he could and walks to the Impala, which is parked neatly right in front of the bunker. Usually, they'd park her in the garage, but knowing himself and his insomnia, Dean leaves her outside, just in case.

He gets into the car and drives into town. The town is small, nothing out of the ordinary. Some of the residents already know the boys, so when Baby passes rolls down the town it's normal to receive some waves and greetings. Dean heads straight to one of his favorite locations: The local bar. It was just a bar, with live music, cute girls and cheap beer, but it was the only place Dean could get some peace.

The old yellow pages factory housed the two-story bar. On the first floor, one could find the main bar with tall tables and a stage where the local bands would play from Thursday to Sunday. On the second floor, which could be accessed from the stairs on the side of the building, one would find bigger tables, a kitchen, a bar, and some pool tables: usually, most people would go to the second floor and just hang out with friends on nights where no bands were playing. In the front of the building is the name of the bar in bright letters 'The Good and the Better' and, despite the distance, the band playing tonight is bringing the house down. Dean doesn't like to park in front of the building because most people have the terrible habit of leaning against other people's cars. Once, he even saw a hood of a Mustang decorated with empty beer bottles, so to protect Baby from such crimes, Dean parks further away, almost at the entrance of the grounds of the bar. He begins walking casually towards the bar, passing a few people in the way, greeting them with a nod.

The door to the first floor is guarded by security guards twice Dean's side, keeping the long line in order. He walks to the side of the building, towards the stairs to the second floor.

"Does Sam know you're out here?' A raspy voice echoes and makes Dean stop immediately. He turns around and sees Crowley standing against the wall of the bar with a ridiculous grin and long black coat. 'Rough night sleep, is it?"

Dean looks around noticing they were both alone for the time being.  
'What do you want?'

"Can't I can a proper greeting? 'Well, hello dear Crowley. How are you? So nice to see you..."

"Cut the bullshit, Crowley. What do you want?"

"So grumpy..."

"Alright-"

Dean turns his back to the demon, goes up the stairs and into the bar. One of the security guards from the second floor greets him knowingly and Dean greets him back. The man points to an empty booth by the window, his favorite, in the back of the bar and Dean, walks over there. By the time he sits down, Crowley is in sitting opposite him.

"Is this a way to treat the King of hell and ally?"

"Ally? Since when?"

"Since...well, does it matter? I hate you, you hate me and together we create the perfect balance of destruction and peace."

"Do you want to get shot?"

"Don't talk dirty to me, Winchester. You can't please me enough." A young lady comes to the table and asks what they would like to drink. Dean orders a beer, while Crowley asks for a glass of their oldest scotch, without any hope it would be good. "I'm here because I feel a disturbance in the force."

"Do you, Yoda?"

"Yes. There's been something in the air for a while, but I got the confirmation I needed a few weeks ago."

"Of what?"

"I'm not sure. But something has changed. Something dark is coming. Darker than ever."

The young lady returns with their requests and leaves. Dean takes a sip of his beer.

"So.." The Winchester adds, putting down his glass "You know nothing.'

"I came to warn you-"

"About nothing."

"-That instead of hunting vampires and other crawling creatures, you should be investigating the disappearance of people"

"People?"

"Yes," Crowley states. "Coincidental disappearances of small groups of people in the south.'

Dean takes another sip of his beer and shakes his head.

"In case you haven't noticed, we are hunters. Meaning, we hunt monsters and demons, such as yourself. We don't deal with simple disappearances. For that, you go to the police. Also, why do you care?"

"Because it affects my business!' The demon declares. Dean raises an eyebrow, taking another sip of his beer. "Of course, I couldn't care less about people disappearing of people in rural America. We know why they disappear and, sometimes, we do help - You wouldn't believe the contracts I have for some of nastiest shit that happens-"

"Alright!" Dean cuts him off. "I don't care about the deals you have with whatever, okay?"

Crowley shrugs casually, looking around.

"Sex trafficking, human trafficking, witchcraft, the occasional human sacrifice - to which I am ever so grateful as it keeps my skin moisturized - but this is not the case. This is different!"

The king of Hell puts his hand in his jack pocket and produces a file that would be too big to fit inside any pocket. Swiftly he pushes the documents across the table.

"Take dear Jonas, for instance..." The pages begin to turn quickly and land on the picture of a young man with freckles. "Jonas here was a young psychopath, killing animals, hating women, and bullying his mates in school. He was the perfect candidate for hell.' The page turns again to a picture of his dead body 'He was found dead in a ditch. Body all mangled. Terrible shape. He probably suffered. However, he's slot is still empty"

The pages turn again.

'Sweet Margaret had a thing for abusing her children, especially the poor disabled Maddie, her classmate. A perfect candidate for an eternal vacation in damnation' Crowley made the page turn once more to a picture of a deformed body lying face down by a river ' Found dead a couple of days ago, but her soul never arrived in hell.'

Crowley makes the pages turn again to a picture of a young athlete old enough to be in college.

"Turk had a thing for little girls...' Dean stares at Crowley, who takes a sip of the scotch. 'Let us say, he's actions scream louder than his words and internet history. Again, found dead. Slot in hell still empty.'

"Alright, what are you saying..."

"I'm saying, I'm having trouble keeping my demons entertained and contracts up to par. These souls of terrible young people never arrived in hell. Never. Like these I mention, you can see my list goes on and on. They die, but they never arrive."

Dean looks at the thick file in front of him. The list of people seemed endless.

"How is this possible? Are you sure?"

"I'm the king of hell. I keep tabs of those who arrive for eternal torture. I'm pretty sure. But it gets interesting, there are not only terrible people dying whose souls go unchecked...'

The pages turn once more to a picture of a smiling kid.

"Lucas, age 10. A sweet young boy who volunteered at the local animal shelter. Kidnapped. Found dead in the woods. His soul never made it to heaven."

The page turns to a picture of an old nun

"Sister Kate. Age 68. Tortured for hours. Never saw the face she prayed too."

And one final time to a young black man.

"Andre, known to be a young man. He was unrecognizable when found. Never arrived at the pearly gates..."

Dean is fully interested now. Where were these souls going?

"How come I didn't hear of this before?"

" It's been happening for some time. Unless you had a trained eye like me, you wouldn't notice. It's been happening quietly over the years, but for the past month the number has increased and it has reached the ultimate high with 100 souls not arriving. I'm pretty sure the dicks with wings from above will see the pattern too any time now. "

Dean leans against his chair. He's intrigued.

"Sounds far-fetched. I wouldn't know where to begin."

"None of us do. But it is happening. "

"Could it be some other demon?"

"Dean, all souls go either to heaven or hell. Not going at all is not an option."

"What about limbo?"

"I counted limbo. They're not there either." Crowley leans towards Dean and lowers his voice. "If we don't get souls to where they belong it shakes the balance of things. Hell runs on souls, so does heaven. If my demons are not satisfied below, it's only a matter of time before they begin climbing up the stairs and come play outside."

"What could be doing this?"

Crowley drinks the rest of his whiskey in one go and looks disappointed by the end. A shadow crossed his face.

"I don't know."

Dean drinks the best of his beer all at once.

" I'll take this home and check it out." Dean grabs the file and keeps it at his side. Crowley shakes his head.

"Oh right...I Forgot. You only care when Cass comes running with information. Do call when your love breaks you the old news, yes?"

And just as quickly disappears, before Dean could even give him the finger in return. Dean looks at his empty glass and then at the file by his side. The best solution, for now, was to drink another.  
Dean raises his hand to call the young waitress ordering another beer. He never really notices that he was being closely watched by a woman with no hair and red lips, a few tables behind him.

* * *

By the time Dean returns to the bunker the sun is already breaking through and the day appears to be amazingly sunny. Before arriving at the bunker he'd stop by a bakery shop and buy some coffee and doughnuts for Sam. This time, he parks the Impala in the garage and walks down to the bunker with the file under his arm, coffee in one hand, and doughnuts in another.

Curiously, the young brother is already up and about browsing through the internet when Dean comes down the stairs.

"I bring breakfast!"

"So, I see, ' Sam replies watching his brother come down the stairs "You're up early."

Dean places the coffee and doughnuts on the table by his brother,

"Yeah, my bed was itching, so..."

"Or you can also say you didn't sleep here and went to the bar. I got too drunk to drive and slept in the car. That works too."

Dean smirks a bit. He removes the file Crowley had given him from under his arm and dropped it on the table.

"Crowley got us a case."

"Crowley?"

"The one and only..." Dean pulls up a chair and sits across his brother, who had begun going through the file "Apparently, people are dying but their souls are not getting into heaven nor hell."

"What?"

"You heard me." Dean takes a sip of his coffee and a bite of a sugary doughnut. "All those people dead and no souls to match. Good and bad"

"Impossible..."

"So, I thought, but then I checked it myself and the records are true. They are all dead. '

Sam begins turning the pages and reading the causes of death one by one.

"No souls?"

"None"

"I'm intrigued"

"I am too. And I hate it."

Suddenly, the front door opens wide and Castiel appears at the top of the stairs with a woman in arms.

"Cass? What...is that a woman?" Sam asks looking up.

"I found her," Castiel says as he comes down the stairs, carrying a woman like a feather. "She was passed out on the side of the road."

"And you brought her here?"

"I thought she'd be better among familiar faces," Cass informs. He comes close to the table and lays the woman's body on the table. Dean quickly jumps to his feet with eyes wide open.

"Cassie..." He touching the woman's face. "That's Cassie!"


	2. Chapter 2

**2\. WALKING BACKWARDS**

**BEFORE**

The formerly known as the Daily Gazette, one of the most prominent newspapers in the state, didn't begin as the three-story building that it is today. The newspaper had its first editions done right in the garage by a group of five journalists fresh out of the college and an experienced journalist with years of work. As it grew in size in reputation, what was once a garage with a couple of tables, became an entire office big enough to host ten people. Years later it had its floor and, after the owners of the newspaper agreed, the Daily Gazette had an entire building to itself complete with a recording studio, a conference room, a cafeteria for the journalist, and a soon to be a studio for live content. Under the management of Reuben, the newspaper slowly became more internet-focused, reducing its printing from daily to weekly, becoming just The Gazette, and aiming for more content online and in video format.

However, despite having entire rooms vacant for this purpose, Cassie had chosen to take her research to the basement. Most specifically to the old conference room. The basement was cold, damp and an ugly thing to look at, but it was the perfect condition. Cassie found herself alert and with more understanding of the case in front of her.

This room had once been home to old computers, printers, and fax machines, but now, it lays empty with nothing but a table in the middle. The wall furthest away from the door is covered in papers, photographs and post its. On the top part of the wall, right close to the ceiling, there are pictures of the victims whose disappearance had plagued this town over the years. Below them, the pictures of the bodies and the state, they were found. Below those pictures, the police reports and news clippings came cascading down. For anyone looking, the wall is a mess of papers, but for Cassie, the mastermind behind the blueprint of these disappearances, it's a meticulous sketch of the whole scenario.

This string of disappearances isn't a recent event. Over many years, in the tristate area alone, people have been disappearing for a few days and their bodies were later found. Some would be found 48 hours later, others would be found as late as three months. The victims were all people of the community, known from everyone, but without a specific trade that would make them different from any others. These people registered no change in behavior, new acquaintances, enemies, or addictions. They were regular people.

In the beginning, according to some of the early police records that dated as far as early 2000, some of the victims would be seen as runaways as there were always reports of sights a few towns over. However, as time went by and these disappearances began to occur more and more and the bodies would pill up, the police began to see them for what they were: a possible serial killer gang. There was only one problem: No one had any idea of what these possible serial killers looked like.

Of course, it didn't take long before these strange occurrences began to take a toll on the towns. Parents would hold their children close, doors would be a lock early, teenagers wouldn't stay late. Everyone was suspicious of everyone.

The most recent victim was a young woman mother of three, who was seen walking out of her grocery store, but never made it to her car. Whoever took her, took advantage of a blind spot in the cameras, and the mother was never seen again. Now, the police were trying to find her. Time was speeding as the chances of finding the young woman would diminish by the minute.

Cassie is sitting on top of a table with her legs crossed, just staring into the face of the most recent victim. From the moment she first laid eyes on these cases, she knew something was off. Her journalist instinct kicked in immediately and questions began pouring in. After graduating with honors from college with a degree in journalism, Cassie quickly began interning for the biggest newspaper in the tristate area. After that, she was a journalist for the crime section and then quickly rose to become editor in chief of The Daily Gazette.

There's a knock on the door and a young man peers his head into the room.

"I bring coffee." Cassie makes a gesture for the young man to come in. Because he has his hands full, he closes the door with his foot, jumping a little. "People are starting to ask questions as to why I come down here so often. I think they're getting suspicious."

"They should be working, not asking about what you do for a living." Cassie takes the cup of coffee out of the young man's hand and drinks a bit. She likes her coffee as black as night and as bitter as possible. "Any news?"

"Nothing." The young man sat next to her on the table. "Roads still closed. I heard rumors that she was abused by her husband so she could be a true runaway, but seems feeble so far."

"Of course, it's feeble and they know it. I'm telling you, Milo, the police are in on this. How can so many unsolved cases just remained open for years and not a single detective touch it?"

"Bad police work?"

"And a bad Police Chief." Cassie points her finger at a picture of the former police chief who was now retired in a home with late Alzheimer's disease.

"You're speculating."

Cassie takes a sip of her hot black coffee.

"Possibly. But, the shreds of evidence speak for themselves. How much you want to bet his hand is in this?"

Milo takes a sip of his coffee.

"When are you going to tell Reuben?

Cassie drinks the rest of her coffee in one sitting. Reuben was her director and an old friend of the family.

For the past month, the young editor has been hiding and sneaking away to the lower floor to work on this case, without the director's knowledge. Knowing him, only two things could happen: either Reuben would be very interested and excited about this information and want it published now. Or, he would kick Cassie's ass for knowing all of this and going behind his back.

"Now."

"Now?"

"Yeah, he forced me into telling him what was happening after not seeing me at my desk a handful of times. I'm also pretty sure someone snitched on me."

"Who?"

"I don't know. But, when I find out, I will break jaws"

"Relax"

"We have to get this out, Milo. These disappearances are not just happening here, but all over the South. I'm telling you we have a gang of serial killers in our hands and the Police are involved somehow. However, for this to get coverage and become wild spread on a national level, we need connections."

"And Reuben has them..."

"All of them. National coverage and we can finally make justice for these people. "

Milo takes a final sip of his coffee and takes a deep breath.

"I'm going to play devil's advocate for a moment, yes?" Cassie agrees with a quick nod "What you have here is circumstantial. You have no concrete suspect, no names, no murder weapon, no footprints, no nothing. Technically, these people went from one side to the other without leaving a single trace. What you have is a conspiracy theory, not an investigative work, Cassie."

"They are dead, Milo."

"That is a fact. However, you have nothing to indicate to you who did it, how many are there, or what is a possible motive. What you have is the location and, sometimes, where they died is not where they are found. What you have is conjecture."

"All good news stories begin as conspiracies, young Milo."

"But, not all conspiracies are news stories."

Cassie looks at the young intern and shows a smile.

"You do like to test me."

"I'm giving you what everybody else will say. Look at it from a practical standing point: you don't have any proof. None of the bodies had any DNA on them, or familiar markings, or hair that didn't belong to them. No weird fabrics, textures, or dirt on them that wasn't on the place where they were found. You do have a pattern, no one takes that away from you. What you don't have is a connection between all of them."

"The women have the same markings on the thighs"

"Not all. "Milo points at the last two victims. "They didn't have anything on their bodies. The last one was found completely naked."

"So, it's not perfect..."

"Far from it. You have a lot of holes." Milo puts his cup of coffee aside and stares at his editor. "Did you know Mark has called me at least three times a day since you started this?"

Cassie shows him a surprised look and then frowns.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"He's probably worried."

"He's not an issue."

"Cassie, he's your fiancé."

"Not my owner, though. What did you tell him?"

"That you're fine, just busy. He can be a real...ass sometimes, you know?"

"Yeah, he doesn't like you." Milo's eyes grow twice their size, but Cassie's pats the young man's shoulder "Don't worry. He doesn't like most men I know. Artist, you know?"

"Call him, okay?"

Cassie scoffs and shakes her head.

Suddenly, the door opens and a middle-aged man with dark hair with round glasses shows up. In his hand, he carries an old newspaper and shows it to Cassie.

"Look, I found a news article written by your-" Reuben quickly shuts up after seeing the wall of information. The middle-aged man drops the newspaper and enters the room closing the door behind him. He just stands there looking.

"Okay, before you get mad and pop a vein, hear me out." Cassie commences, jumping from the table.

"Is this...what you have been doing for the past month days?" Reuben asks not removing his eyes from the wall of information. "Where did you get all of this? Have you been working, at all?"

"I have yes..." Cassie lies.

In truth, Cassie has been delegating most of her chores to her assistant editor, who has managed to help her in this game of deceit.

Cassie approaches the director and brings him closer to the wall.

"I have been working on this for a while now, but only recently have I had the opportunity to lay it all out on the open. Starting from the beginning: We know people have been disappearing from this town, and neighboring towns, for a while now. It's hard to set up a date, but I believe it started somewhere in the late '80s. Most of the people who have disappeared have had their bodies found a week up to three months after they disappeared. Only three people have disappeared and never been found: Two twin boys in the 80's and another young woman, in the 90s, so we assume they might still be alive. These are the facts.

'Recently, I've had the opportunity to get a hold of the autopsy reports of some of the cases, because - surprisingly, or not - some of the bodies did not have an autopsy report nor was it require. From those I did get an autopsy from, it revealed that the bodies exhibited practically the same type of trauma in their bodies: cuts, bruises, bite marks, scratches. As if they had been fighting for their life. "

Cassie removes an autopsy report of a recent case and hands it to Reuben.

'However, the victims were not fighting their attackers, they were fighting themselves. Some of the bites and scratches matched the teeth and nails of the victims. The autopsy shows they all died of practically the same: a severe heart attack, except for four of them. Two men were shot in the head, one had his throat slashed and the last one had a sign of strangulation. These four also had other markings the other victims they didn't have: their feet were covered in blisters as if they had been running or walking barefoot for miles. So, it's safe to assume they ran, and, for that reason, they were killed.'

Cassie hands another autopsy report and photographs for Reuben to see.

'Also, some victims were so badly deformed the police had a hard time identifying them. Overall, the victims showed all kinds of trauma, but some had suffered more than others' Cassie points at the picture of a young man 'This guy didn't have fingertips'

She moves a few steps further and points at two women who wore braces 'These two had had no teeth' She becomes back a few steps to a young man with beautiful lush hair 'This guy had big clumps of hair missing as if he had pulled them out with his hand'

' In some cases, the victims that were found quickly, in the span of two or three days, actually displayed first signs of decomposition and others found later two or three months were practically fresh. So, they were probably contained somewhere, while the newer ones were left in a place that sped the decomposition process. Also..." Cassie takes a photograph out of the wall that showed a piece of a body with a weird symbol on it. "The women, some of them at least, had a particular mark on the inside of their thigh..."

Reuben looks away in discussion and puts the pictures aside. Slowly, he has begun to become paler.

"These are the traces of a serial killer, Reuben. A group of them, I dare say. It's the only answer for the killed to be crossing theses distances in such a short time. " Cassie takes a print of Google maps from the wall "They just jump from one side to the other, to the next and the next in impossible record time. And I dare say, with the help of the police."

"Cassie..." Reuben begins to interrupt. The old man takes a handkerchief from his pocket and daps his forehead.

"Also," Cassie takes a set of photos off the wall. "This suspicious van was seen nearby were the victims disappeared. Near the park where Louise vanished back in September." Cassie points to the picture of a van in the background almost easy to miss. 'It passed the neighborhood just after Jackson arrived home from practice" The next pictures show the same van caught in the neighbor's CCTV just as a blurry image "And again, and again, and again..."

The director raises his hand and Cassie's shuts up entirely. At this moment, she was expecting Reuben to be excited with all this information. However, the director was apprehensive.

Reuben comes closer to the wall looking at the pictures of all the faces who have vanished over many years. Curiously, he stares at a particular piece of paper and removes it from the wall.

"How did you get all of this?'

"I have a source'

'A legal one?'

"Yes."

"For the love of your father don't you lie to me, Cassie"

The young woman crosses her arms over her chest and remains in silence. Reuben shakes his head.

When the FBI became involved with the disappearances they made the case confidential. Which meant that no one had access to whatever it was happening behind closed doors. There were no leaks, no one to call or ask for information. They moved silently. Aside from the first reports, the media was being shut off of all information regarding the development of the cases, over strict orders.

After digging, calling favors, pulling all the strings, Cassie managed to know who was on the team. For her luck, one of the members was a man known for having a particular taste. You see, this agent was a devout Christian, a man of the family, with morals and values up to the high sky. One would wonder what his family would do if they knew the head of the family, not only enjoyed the pleasures of men who dressed as women, as he also dressed like one when in private and went by the name Denise.

Once Cassie knew the weakness of the man, bribing him with the information was an easy step. Yes, she could have gotten herself in real trouble for blackmailing, but the price the agent had to pay was a lot higher.

Cassie shrugs off the question.

"I got it. That's what matters."

Reuben turns to look at the young editor with a worried look on his face.

"You've been playing detective for the past month, now you show me this and want me to go public with it." Reuben points to the paper in his hand that had the red letters CLASSIFIED right on the header "We get this out and we are shut down immediately."

"That won't happen."

"How do you know? Did the agent who gave you this information did so voluntarily?"

Cassie looks away and Reuben sighs loudly.

"Not only is it confidential, but you also blackmailed some poor son of a bitch..." Reuben tosses the piece of paper aside. " This has been happening before you knew what journalism was. I get it. With the internet, things got a new flame and people are even more curious. I get it! It's great, so these people's memory is alive and well..."

"Reuben..."

"However!" The director's voice booms across the room. " There are forces at play here in a game I don't understand. Everyone in this town knows it, that there is a bigger power working here. But, what we're not going to do is commit a crime of divulging confidential information that you got by bribing some poor guy."

"What are you talking about, Reuben?"

"Oh, come on, Cassie. Do you think you're the only one with a brain in this town? You think you're the only one who figured out that something rot is happening here?"

Reuben looks back at the wall full of pictures and puts his hands on his waist.

"Your father and I did something like this. Of course, there's a lot more information now, but we did something like this. We showed it to our director at the time. You know what he said?" Reuben turns to the editor "They said the same thing I'm about to tell you: shut it down, now!"

" what?" Both Cassie and Mile blurt out.

"We worked hard for this information, Reuben." The young intern adds. It was like Reuben had suddenly remembered the young man was in the room.

"The time you spent here, would have better used up there learning something about journalism."

"This is journalism! It's an investigation!" Cassie replies.

"No! This is a conspiracy theory. I haven't heard one piece of evidence coming from you, pointing at a suspect, or with a possible connection or motive!"

Reuben takes off his glasses and sighs again.

"It's tragic. Horrible and heartbreaking. I've had three school friends go missing in six months. However, this is confidential, which means no one has access to it, especially in illicit form."

"Don't you care about these people?"

"You go out with this and before you know it the feds will shut us down, drown me in federal charges, and arrest you. Even you, Milo!"

"Me?" The young intern stands up in a fright. "I only wanted to help..."

"Sit down, Milo. He's playing you." Cassie argues, dismissing Reuben's remarks.

The old man looks at his editor with a look of sheer disbelief on his face.

"Milo, leave us..."

Milo gets up and leaves the room just as quickly. Cassie and Reuben stand staring at one another.

"Everyone who is everyone in this town knows something is up with these disappearances. We've had some of the national news come here and investigate. They stay for three days, then get a visit from the FBI and are asked politely to leave the case alone. On the fourth day, they are usually gone. "

"Are you saying these disappearances are...allowed to go on?"

"No. Not allowed. Just not prohibited. " Reuben replies. The director puts his glasses back on and fixes his tie. He takes one last look at the wall, then at Cassie. "Shut this down. Pack your things. You're suspended."

"You can't do this! How can you turn your back on this-"?

"That anger. That revolt that you're feeling right now? I felt it before and I had to decide. Either, I was selfish and got himself into a fight I wouldn't be able to win. Or I'd back down and continue my life, and everyone else's in this newspaper, with dignity."

"You call dignity knowing what is going on and not telling people?"

Reuben shakes his head.

"You can't be the hero in every story, Cassie. Shut it down. " The Directors gives his last orders and prepares to leave the room. "And call your damn fiancée. He's been calling the entire newsroom looking for you."

Reuben leaves the room shutting the door behind him. Cassie's heart sinks to the floor. The person she hoped would root for her, would want this case to come to the light of day the most, is the same one that puts a bar and stops her. Cassie sits back on the table with hands-on her curly hair and closes her eyes. Days of work going down the drain. She knows Reuben had a point and she couldn't dare to bring misery to him, or the people who worked at the newspaper. She could not forget the victims. They were so many! And so many more would happen, Cassie just knew it.

Reuben had said not to use the newspaper to share this information. So, she would go to the second-best place for this type of information: the universe of the world wide web. She would create a website, a Youtube channel, a twitter account, and a Facebook page! She would put money behind it to make it go wide and spread like wildfire. This would be known one way or another. The consequences? She'd deal with that later.

With the fire lit again in her heart, Cassie stands up and walks to the door. She opens it and finds Milo standing on the other side.

"That sounded bad."

"It was."

"Are you going to the internet with it?"

"You bet your ass I am."

"What are we doing?"

"Box everything. Lock the door, leave the keys at the front desk. I'll come to pick it up at night and take it home."

Milo raises an eyebrow.

"Can you do that? Steal information?"

"It's not stealing. It's...transferring. I'm transferring from one side to the other. Besides, it's my information."

"It's still illegal."

Cassie picks up her jacket and purse.

"Do it for me, will ya?"

Cassie rushes past Milo and goes up the stairs

"And where are you going?"

"To visit my very annoying fiancé!"

Cassie is driving on a route she knows with her eyes closed. The town Liberty is of a generous size, meaning everyone knows everyone but, there is still enough room to have some privacy. Cassie had grown up here, her friends were here and the rest of her family as well. Cassie never had dreams of moving to a big city or even abroad. The young woman loved the quietness of a typical town in the south of the USA. She loved the scorching heat in the summer and the roaring of the wind and thunder in the winter months. It gave her serenity. It was who she was.

So being a child of the land, there was no possible way for her to meet her fiancée Mark, a guy from the big city of New York. Mark was an artist. They had met while he was in Jackson presenting his most recent work of art in the biggest gallery in town. He was well known in the New York circuit and it was surprising to see a full house for the opening night in Jackson. Cassie interviewed him. They clicked. He would stay in town for five days and those five days they spent it together meeting for drinks. However, there wasn't much to be done as Mark was from New York and had to go back. However, even after he went back, they continued to speak daily. So, it wasn't that big of a surprise when Mark announced he would be moving there to be with her and make Mississippi his base.

It was great at first, but then, it began to spiral down. That's how passionate relationships work. During the two years of relationship, there were moments of pure bliss and happiness, where they could see a future together, even dare to dream of children. As a couple, they have even traveled to some countries were Mark would put his exhibitions, on the list they include Italy, Australia, France, Japan, and South Africa. It was going fine, but then jealousy, possession, and suspicion (mostly from Mark) would get in the way of things. Despite being a handsome and talented man, Mark was weirdly insecure. Cassie was a known journalist in town, she had a large number of connections and even greater group of friends (some male), which meant sometimes she would meet them and Mark would hate it. At any exhibition, Cassie would capture attention with her beauty and, she would socialize with other artists and Mark would hate it.

It was never a physical, but it was a toxic relationship just for the sheer amount of arguments they had. "Who's is this guy?", "Where are you going?", "What time are you coming home?" Mark would ask this every time he would feel insecure, which happened a lot. However, when he was on top of his game, he would shower Cassie with love, affection, and call her his muse.

Ever since moving to Mississippi his inspiration had been on the highest helping him create unique paintings, amazing sculptures, and breathtaking illustrations. For him, love and passion were the inspiration he needed to create. Sometimes, Cassie thought he argued just so he could have the inspiration to create something.

The proposal itself happened in the middle of an argument and it wasn't a proposal, but an angry question, to which Cassie answered yes, but seconds later regretted it. In some kind of naivete, she thought he'd forget, but a few days later Mark appeared with a ring and that's how things have been for the past year.

The idea of marriage and kids always creeped Cassie out, in some way. Sometimes, she would imagine herself with children, but some other days she couldn't even dream of it. Cassie loves her career and independence; children and marriage might ruin that.

The young woman stops at the stop sign. Her eyes sly down to her hand, sitting on the stirring wheel. Quickly, she realizes she's not wearing her engagement ring. It was probably somewhere in her bag, lost among other stuff. Cassie knew this would start a fight.

Mark works in a gallery downtown. Not only was he an artist who sold his pieces of art, as he would sometimes sell pieces of other artists he knew from around the world. He even took orders from people who wanted a specific artist. Mark didn't enjoy the capitalist side of this, but he loved his shop and wanted to keep the lights on. That meant he traveled a lot, which was also a route of his insecurity and jealousy leaving Cassie alone all those days. Despite that, the young woman enjoyed the moments alone and would miss him dearly in his absence. Well, don't get it wrong, Cassie loves Mark. Mark loves Cassie. Was the level of love equal? Perhaps not.

Cassie parks her car right in front of the gallery. Despite being lunchtime, she sees Mark walk inside the shop. He's standing behind the counter, looking at the computer and typing away. He's such a handsome man, it hurts just to look at him.

Cassie gets out of the car and walks up to the glass door, knocking a bit too hard. Mark looks up and sees his fiancé. He can't help but draw a grin shaking his head. Cassie knocks again, this time with more intent. Mark walks from behind the counter slowly and proceeds to open the door.

He's a tall man, with dark hair and piercing green eyes. His shirt was dirty and he smelled of paint.

"Well, look who it is!"

"Oh, you got some nerve!"

Cassie passes right by him and enters the shop, dropping her jacket and purse on the way in an empty chair. The shop in itself is quite spacious, with four tall shelves with small pieces of art for sale, paintings on the wall, and heavy art pieces in the corners. In the back, behind the counter, is the gallery space with a temporary exhibit by a young artist. Despite occupying the same physical space, the shop had a front door to the main road, while the gallery would be accessed from a side door.

"Oh, I got some nerve? It wasn't me who fucking disappeared for almost a month straight!" Mark closes the door behind him and puts his hands on his hips.

"I didn't disappear. I was right here!"

"No, no. The last thing you said to me was 'I got to go. Something happened' That was a month ago! After that, no text, no call. I had to call half the town before I knew where you were!"

"I was at my job!"

"I know! I saw your breaking news post regarding the latest disappearance. I saw you on TV, walking behind the reporter on the news channel! All your articles are signed, that's how I knew where you were. Ah! I also called that stupid kid that interns for you."

"I know. He told me. You can't be calling my coworkers."

"Well, I would stop by the newspaper, but I'm still banned..."

One time, after a few days of very intense argument which led Cassie to block Mark out for a few days. Mark got a little too much to drink and went to the headquarters to find Cassie, who was working late. He'd make a scene, screaming and breaking stuff, just to get someone's attention. He even got into a little fight with one of the securities. By the time Cassie had come down, the police were already involved and Mark was being taken away. He would stay the night in a holding cell, sleeping the drink away and Cassie ended up paying for his bail in the morning.

"That was your fault"

"I said I was sorry."

"Yeah, well...it is what it is..."

"I went to your house. You weren't there!"

"I didn't have time to go home. I was following the case!"

Also, Cassie was following the FBI agent and gathering information to bribe him. Deep down, she enjoyed the quiet and the silence away from Mark.

"You and this fucking case! It's like I don't even know you anymore!"

"This case and everything around it came long before you. So chill, yeah?"

"Chill?"

"Yes! Relax! I'm here and alive!"

"You don't get it, do you?" Mark comes closer to Cassie and the young woman instinctively takes a step back. "You have to understand that you have to tell me where you go. The same way I tell you! Want to know why? Because people are disappearing and showing up dead, Cassie!"

"Well, I'm alive and well, Mark! We don't have to be in constant contact with one another, you know? Some silence never killed anyone!"

"What are you saying? Are you tired of me or something?"

"You always do this! I can't go work without you questioning everything I do! I'm a reporter. I have to be on top of my game here! I'm sorry if I don't have time to cuddle you whenever you want!"

"It's not about cuddling, it's about you not respecting me."

"How is this...about...respect?

"You're my fiancé! We're in a relationship, Cassie!"

Cassie opens her mouth and closes it suddenly. She has had it with the jealousy, with the screaming, with the questions and the accusations. It was smothering. It was too much.

"I'm not wearing a ring." Cassie blurts out. Somehow, it felt like a relief. As the days went by, the more and more she was certain that this marriage idea, was an impulse she should have not given in.

Mark looks at Martha's hand with surprise.

"Why?"

"Because I'm tired of this. We argue all the time about nothing. I can't have a moment without you being suspicious of whatever it is and I'm tired. I've sacrificed my time, my instincts, my job all because of you! Because I can't take a step without you wanting to know where I am and controlling me. I'm not a woman to be controlled, Mark. "

They stand in silence for a few minutes. The room is heavy and the tense mood so palpable one would cut it with a knife. Mark walks back to the counter and leans against it.

"I love you, Cassie. You are the best thing that ever crossed my path. Don't do this."

"You always do this. You come with all the baggage and drama, I'm not here for it."

"I'm sorry."

"And I'm tired. Of this. Of fighting, of arguing, of demanding...You don't let me breathe."

"You left me."

"I did and you know what? I didn't even feel sorry, because I was focusing on my job, Mark. I liked this little time away from you. It gave me peace! " Cassie let's out a heavy sigh. "I've been a report before you. I will continue to be one."

As Mark was preparing to open his mouth to talk, there's was a knock on the glass door. The couple turns to look, finding a brunette woman with big sunglasses waving at them. It was a hot summer's day, but the woman wore a long black jacket, gloves, and boots.

Mark points at the sign 'CLOSED' on the door. The woman looks at it and shrugs.

"Cassie..." Mark calls her attention once more. This time he was close to her. He held her hand "I love you, Cassie."

"I know you do and I-"

There's another incessant knock on the glass door. They look at the woman, who now mouths "open!" and points at the door.

"There's a fucking sign on the door! Read it!" Mark yells. The woman balls up her fist and bangs it on the glass door again. Mark walks to the door with big steps accompanied by a furious look on his face. He opens the door angrily.

"Can't you read?"

"Yes."

"We're closed, ma'am"

"Then, why did you open the door? " The woman walks by Mark, entering the shop without being invited. Mark was about to close the door when its gesture was blocked by a hand. Behind the woman, two twins walk into the shop, not paying Mark any mind nor asking for permission to walk in.

"Cute place." The woman replies looking around. She takes off her big sunglasses and then stares at Cassie who stares at her confused. "There you are. I'm Ruby. Nice to meet you."

Ruby walks up to Cassie and extends her hand. They shake on it, but Cassie is unsure about the situation. She feels something regarding Ruby. She wasn't...good.

"Who are you?" Cassie asks.

" A friend," Ruby replies. "Family friend."

"No one in my family ever mentioned you."

"I know. I understand. But, here we are now. We have met."

"What do you want?" Mark asks cutting in. Ruby raises her finger and shushes him, without taking her eyes off Cassie. "Not talking to you, testosterone. My conversation is with the Nile flower over here."

"Do I know you?" Cassie replies, staring at the woman.

"Personally? No. But I heard you are a real-life Dora the Explorer, going around asking questions about shit you shouldn't know anything about."

"What?"

Ruby shows a devilish smile.

"Your mom wants to see you, dearest."

The room stands quiet for a second before Cassie lets out a laugh and shakes her head.

"A-ha! I don't know who you are, but my mother has passed away."

"She hasn't."

"She has." Cassie reinstates. "I saw her lose the fight to cancer. I attended a funeral. I mourned her..." Cassie argues vehemently. "I visit her grave every week. She's dead."

Ruby makes a side-to-side movement with her hand and a weird sound with her mouth.

"Just because you see something, doesn't mean it is as it appears to be." Ruby takes a step closer to Cassie, with her hands behind her back "She's not dead, baby girl. I've seen her. Many times." Ruby walks by Cassie, casually walking around the shop touching things here are there "Tell me, did you have an open casket funeral? Did you see her body? At the hospital, did you see your mother lying dead? Did you see your mom in the last hours before the passed? Or did your dad just told you she had passed?"

Cassie was ready to answer, but then the words fled her mouth. The burial of her mother had been done in a closed casket. She hadn't seen her mother's body since pronounced dead. And yes, her father had given the news to her and had declined to allow Cassie to see her body, alleging her mother had been in terrible shape.

Cassie's heart sinks at the possibility that her mother wasn't dead, but alive. The wheels in her head were spinning fast.

"Tell me you don't believe her, Cassie," Mark adds.

"I do have a case with enough questions to be considered as an option, don't I Cassie?" Ruby replies, never losing her beautiful smile.

"For all accounts, my mother is dead," Cassie replies, not losing her composure.

"I'm telling you, she's not." Ruby shrugs playing with a little piece made of glass "Why would I lie? Why would anyone lie about this?"

"Who are you? Coming in here and spilling all this bullshit about her mom?" Mark inquires looking at Ruby with attention.

"I'm a friend of the family,"

Mark crosses his arms over his chest.

"How come I never met you, then?"

Ruby stops analyzing the little glass pieces, to stare at Mark. Quietly she measures him from top to bottom.

"You think you're special because you're sleeping with her, don't you?"

"I'm her boyfriend." Mark steps closer to Ruby with his arms crossed over his chest. "This entire thing looks shady. You coming here telling her about her mom. Cassie has never seen you!

"Such an insecure little man. You want my attention, but I'm not going to give it to you, Mark. I came here for her."

Cassie approaches Ruby with an inquisitive look.

"You said, I've been asking questions about things I should know nothing about. Is this about the disappearances?"

Ruby's smile returns, with a hint of malice in her eyes.

"You are smart, little bug, but one battle at a time: Your mom's alive. She wants to see you. I'm here to take you to her."

"What if I don't want to?"

"Wasn't asking, sweetie. You're coming'. We can do this the easy way, or..." Ruby points at one of the twins, who have silently moved and were placed strategically inside the shop. "My twins can easily persuade you."

"Okay, stop!" Mark interrupts, being the loud man, he was. He steps in between Ruby and Cassie. One of the twins takes a step forward but Cassie stops him. "I don't know who you are-"

"I told you. I'm Ruby."

"I don't give two fucks. You and your goons need to leave."

"You don't get to tell me what to do, Mark."

"Yes, I do. It's my shop. My girlfriend. She isn't going nowhere with any of you."

"I don't recall asking for permission..."

"You're not going to get any. You and your idiotic looking twins need to leave my shop. Now!"

"Is that supposed to scare me?" There was something in Ruby that made Mark's skin crawl. His entire body wanted him to walk in the other direction. She was...evil. And Ruby sensed that Mark had already had a bad feeling about her. She would use it to her advantage. "Don't test me, you little rat."

"I'm not afraid of you."

Ruby takes a step back and the twin, who had already taken a step forward, comes closer and punches Mark right in the ear. Mark goes down in moans of pain, holding on to his ear. Cassie kneels next to him, attending his pain.

"That was uncalled for!" Cassie adds holding Mark's head. The man was on the floor growling in pain and blinking his eyes rapidly.

"Mark here needs to understand he ain't shit!" Ruby yells loud and clear. "I came here to talk to you, Cassie. I told you, your mom wants to see you. Are you coming or are you coming?"

Cassie looks up at Ruby. Something here was missing. Something important was happening and Cassie couldn't understand what it was yet.

"Is she alive?"

Ruby kneels to look at Cassie directly in her eyes. The demon blinks, showing her the famous black demonic eyes, but Cassie doesn't even flinch.

"Your mom is royalty, baby. She will never die."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi guys**

**I've been working on this story for a while now. **

**I hope you guys enjoy it. **

**I'll try and post, at least, one chapter per month. As for the other stories, I will read them again, and hopefully, I'll find some much-needed inspiration. **

**Thank you. **

* * *

**3.**

**REFLECTION**

Dean looks at Cassie laying in his bed. The young woman still wears Cass's trench coat to cover her body. She's still unconscious and deeply asleep. Despite most of the wounds being healed by the angel, Castiel decided not to heal all of them as some could be clues to where Cassie came from or what happened to her.

Sitting by her side on his bed, Dean gently touches her face and removes some curls away from her eyes. Cassie is still beautiful, even after all these years. She didn't age one day. Dean, on the other hand, felt the heaviness of the years catching up to him. All the stress, all the fights, the sleepless nights it had taken a toll on him both physically and mentally.

It's been years since Dean last saw Cassie, after saving her and her family from an evil racist truck haunting her town. After that, they had exchanged a few text messages, but after a while, it stopped happening. Cassie faded in Dean's memory, as many others have, not because the feelings hadn't been real, but because life just puts other things insight. However, he remembered Cassie. The more he looks at her, the more he remembers the softness of her skin, her smile, her unwilling stubbornness, the feeling her lips, her face in moments of desire, how she pulled and dragged him when they are together, how her nails would just carve his back, how she looks when she's mad, how she had every little thing in its place. In a way, it had been what made him become madly infatuated with her. Her independence, impulsiveness, passion, and anger. All of the characteristics had made Cassie just impossible to resist. She was a hurricane in a bottle and he had loved every second of it. Dean never dreamed of seeing her again, even though he had promised he would one day.

Dean finds himself looking at her body with a fire in his chest but immediately shuts it down. He looks away staring at his hands, thinking about their history.

Still, he remembers that night of passion. He also remembered how it ended up not working for the two of them. As long as they had different goals, they would never end up together. At the time, Dean wanted to find his father and be closer to Sam, while Cassie wanted a career and did not believe/understand the 'hunting monsters' lifestyle. Dean never blamed her, in fact, deep down, he admired Cassie's strength. On some level he was relived, Cassie wouldn't be liable or in danger because of his hunting lifestyle. In truth, with all the twists and turns life had sent his way, he never thought he would see anyone from his past again.

His eyes slide over to Cassie again who is still deeply asleep. He couldn't believe he was looking at her again after all these years. Dean's eyes fall on the markings on her wrists, feeling a tightening on his chest. Gently, he touches her wrist identifying the burning marks of a very tight rope. The ropes were tightly wrapped around her skin and, knowing Cassie, she probably tried to escape a couple of times and made her markings worse. As his eyes fly over to her face, they fall on her chest. Her dress had a bit of cleavage, but Dean wasn't interested in her breasts, but instead on the marking in the middle of her chest. It was a weird marking, possibly made by the edge of a knife and deep enough to make her bleed. Castiel had warned that Cassie had a distinct marking on her thigh, so he went to check, and there it was. The same marking.

Who had done did this to her? Why would anyone do this to her? He held her hand and, curiously, noticing the mark of a ring on her finger. Dean raises an eyebrow in surprise. Surprisingly, he feels a hint of jealousy. A slight pang on his heart. Someone else had seen in her what Dean had seen in times.

Dean holds Cassie's hand close to his chest, taking a moment to just breathe with her. There, he promised he would find whoever had done this to her. Also, he realized he did not want to let her go.

A gentle knock on the door breaks the moment as Sam's head peers into the room.

"Hey..." Dean replies with a nod. The youngest Winchester walks into the room and stands next to his brother "How is she?"

"Still out."

"Castiel said she'll regain consciousness soon. No real deep damage, but her memory might not be at full capacity just yet. "

"I hope so." Dean puts his hand on his forehead "Have you looked at the markings on her?"

"Yes, it seems ritualistic. Makes you wonder..."

"What was she doing?" Dean asks looking at Cassie, touching her hair again. He mutters to himself: "What were you doing?"

Sam touches his brother's shoulder.

"Come on. Castiel has news from Heaven. "

Dean sighs and shakes his head. Just when he thought things would calm down, a shower of problems would rain on him once more.

Sam walks out of the room leaving Dean by Cassie's side. The older Winchester gets up and prepares to leave. However, he lingers just for a little while longer looking at Cassie and remembering old feelings. He breaths out expiring all of that heat. Leans over, leaving a quick kiss on the young woman's forehead, then covering her with his sheets. He leaves the room closing the door behind him quickly catching up to Sam mid hallway.

Castiel is standing next to the big map table just waiting for them. The angel looks confused, more than usual. In his mind, a million thoughts were gyrating like a tornado.

"How is she?" Castiel asks once the boys approach him.

Dean shakes his head negatively

"Still out. I have no idea what she was doing out there and I don't think I'm going to like it either. But, when she wakes up we'll talk it out of her. Thanks again, man"

"I recognized her from your history together," Cass adds with a nod. "It was an obvious choice to bring her to you."

"I'm glad it was you who found her and not some other creep or worse." Dean pulls out a chair, sitting at the big table. "Sam said you had some news from Heaven. That's where you were coming from when you found Cassie?"

"I got a call from one of the Angels. We met at one of the entrances of Heaven. Something is happening up there."

"Is it the souls?" Dean asks. Sam looks at his brother with a confused look and then at Castiel.

"What's wrong with the souls?"

"They are missing." Castiel replies "The number of souls that should be coming in from Earth, does not match the people who die. Certain people die and their souls do not enter heaven."

"Nor Hell, according to Crowley," Dean asks crossing his arms over his chest. "

Sam shares a look between the two with trying to understand.

"Okay, how is this possible? When souls die they have to go somewhere."

"They're not," Castiel replies. "Which means, they are getting destroyed or lost before coming to us."

"What could do that?"

"I don't know." Castiel shrugs. "Such a thing never happened. Souls always go to Heaven or Hell sooner or later. Having the record of someone dying, but not having their soul is...disconcerting."

The brothers share a look. Then, Dean stands up and walks around. He goes to his jacket and takes out the file that Crowley gave dropping it on the table. Sam looks at it, picking it up.

The file was twice the since Dean last looking at it.

"What's this?"

"Crowley gave it to me last night. That's the name of the souls missing in Hell and Heaven. For the looks of it, it's still counting, that file wasn't that thick last night."

Sam sat down and begins to look through every single file.

"But...How's this possible?"

"I don't know. It just is."

Castiel puts a hand over one of the files closing his eyes. Under his eyelids, his eyes move from side to side. After a short while, he opens them again.

"The names are correct." He removes his hand from the file. "However, the disappearances have stopped, the new names are from the continuing counting of souls."

"What could do this?"

"I'd have to search, but for someone or something to do this, it has to have amazing power. It's feeding off souls."

Dean puts his hands over his head.

"Okay, but is there something that could do this? In all of history. In all of Gods and Deities?"

"Possibly..."

Dean stands up

"Alright. Cass, you can stay here and start checking all of this. Check the people who were going to Hell and Heaven, pretty sure there's a connection here we're missing. A date, a place, a police report, someone...I don't know."

"What are we doing?" Sam asks.

Dean rolls his eyes "Meanwhile, we're gonna try and find Crowley somewhere."

"Crap..." Sam mutters, running his hand through his hair. "I hate that fucker."

"Who here likes Crowley? No one. Yet, we endure." Dean replies. "If he fucks with us we put a bullet in him and shut him up."

"He's not going to die like that."

"Yes, but we shut him up. Come on, let's go."

"Wait, let me get my things."

Sam leaves Dean and Castiel alone, to go to his room retrieve his bag and jacket. Dean looks at Castiel, putting a hand on his arm.

"Take care of her, Cass."

"I will." The angel replies with a nod. "if her condition changes I'll call you."

Sam returns with his bag and jacket, ready to hit the road. They would meet up with Crowley at the next crossroads and try and have a civilized conversation with a demon.

* * *

Not long after Dean and Sam had left, Cas is sitting at the big table reading on the files Crowley had given Dean. The number of people who have vanished over the years and whose souls had gotten lost was baffling. How come one noticed this massive pattern? It began around March when the frequency of disappearances would reach an all-time high, with 20 people disappearing practically at the same time and their souls not entering Heaven nor Hell. Then, the frequency would fade, the numbers of reported disappearances would decrease right around the same time the bodies would begin to appear.

As an angel, Castiel knew all of the creatures from the very good to the very bad. He knew of all the monsters and the deities. The Gods from now and before. However, he couldn't figure out what this could be, at least at first sight. He reminds himself of all the possibilities, but none of them matches the power to make souls disappear.

Castiel closes the file and crosses his fingers over the item focusing all of the knowledge he knew. With his mind, he traveled through time and space. Through the nothingness of the universe to the brightest star. He went through his mental library, crossing all the letters and dotting all the I's.

Nothing matched.

Just when he thought there was nothing in there, a light popped up in his mind. Perhaps it wouldn't be in something as real as a deity or a God. Perhaps a legend? Perhaps a myth? Perhaps this creature wasn't from now but from old.

He looks at all the myths and stories he knew from the time of creation when he found something. No, it couldn't be! It was such a force, it could only be a myth, a story Angels knew about, but it couldn't be true.

Castiel gets up and walks to the nearest shelf looking for a book. He had seen something about this before.

Where was it?

He begins to run his eyes through the bookbinders looking for something that could trigger his memory.

Suddenly, Castiel listens to something he hadn't heard before. A moan. Something guttural, coming from the bedrooms. He leaves the shelves aside, walking towards the hallway and stopping.

The noise came from Dean's bedroom. The Angel walks towards the door and pushes it open, finding Cassie has changed position. She was laying on her back with her hands over her belly, but with her eyes semi-open.

The young woman's head struggled to move from side to side, fighting against herself and moaning. Castiel approaches her, sitting by her side. He quickly understands what was happening: Cassie was having an episode of sleep paralysis.

Gently, he grabs her, holding her into his arms. The young woman's eyes were rolling around to the back of her head and she made weird noises as she slept. Castiel puts a hand over her head, taking a look into her dreams, but all he sees is darkness and fear. Cassie was scared.

Castiel leaves her dreams, calming her down and the young woman's body goes limp as she returns to a calm slumber as Castiel casually looks at her.

He found Cassie curious. Now, looking closely at her, he could sense a different aura about her. It was like her entire body was vibrating to a different frequency. It was practically invisible to humans, possibly some angels, but Castiel had seen and experienced so much, that he was sensitive to other frequencies. Castiel grabs her wrist, with his eyes closed, trying to catch some of Cassie. However, he found nothing.

He was so focused on observing her body, that she didn't notice Cassie was wide awake and looking back at him. Their eyes meet. Castiel fought the urge to avert his eyes and walk out of the room screaming.

Cassie blinks and then mutters:

"Hello."

"Hello," Castiel replies, after swallowing hard, "I'm Castiel."

"I'm Cassie."

They stand in silence again. Cassie's eyes begin looking around.

"What is happening?"

"Don't be afraid."

"I'm too confused to be afraid...yet."

"I'm a friend of Dean's. Dean Winchester."

"Dean?"

"Winchester, yes. You've met them a few years ago. You had a relationship."

Cassie's eyes look around again and then stop on Castiel once more.

"Can... you let me go?"

"Of course."

Cass releases Cassie from his grip and the young woman sits in the bed. She looks around drinking up all the information.

Dean's room was not known for its decor, but it was clear that it was his room. Cassie could easily smell his cheap perfume and aftershave.

"You said, Dean."

"The one and only."

Cassie frowns for a little while, looking around.

"The Dean that had a brother...and hunted monsters...That Dean?"

"Yes," Castiel replies

"How..." Cassie swallows hard "How did I get here?"

"I found you on the side of the road as I was returning from a trip. I brought you here because you know Dean, he knows you and... I just thought you'd be safer here, then somewhere else."

"Right," Cassie confirms. "You're...Castiel, is that it?"

"Yes, Castiel."

Cassie feels a chill run down her spine when the angel repeats the name.

"Have I seen you before?"

"Unlikely."

She looks back at Castiel, who remains in the same position as before.

"Am I a prisoner?"

"No."

"If I get out will you attack me?"

"No."

The young woman looks down at herself with a surprised look. Her dress is still dirty, there are small bruises on her but nothing significant. She doesn't feel any difference, nor is she in pain. So, perhaps the man was speaking the truth? She notices the jacket and frowns.

"That's mine," Castiel adds. "It was cold outside."

"Thank you." Cassie touches the brim of her dress. "What am I wearing?"

"You already had that on."

"Why is it dirty?"

"It was like that. I assume you were kept somewhere dirty."

Cassie notices the bruises on her wrists and her arms.

"What happened to me?"

"I don't know. Can you remember anything?"

Cassie looks at Castile's eyes looking confused. She tries to remember what happened, but it didn't make any sense.

"I remember driving. I was going to meet someone...Someone I cared about..." Cassie closes her eyes remembering her hands on the steering wheel of her car, driving on the road to somewhere, but just as quickly as the picture came it went away "I don't remember..."

"It's alright. You'll remember in due time. A memory can't be forced out."

Cassie looks at Castiel with curiosity in her eyes. There was something different about him. He gave her chills, but at the same time was something calming about him.

"I hope I'm not wrong, but I don't think you'll hurt me."

Castiel nods gently and shrugs.

"I have no reason to."

Cassie continues to look around the room recognizing a picture of a young man, with another young man. She quickly recognizes Dean and Sam. Cassie gets up from the bed and grabs the photograph quickly.

"I haven't seen Dean in years" She states as looking at his smiling face, touching it with the tip of his fingers. "How is he?"

"He's...getting through. He left for the moment but will be returning soon. "

"Is this...his place?"

"Yes," Castiel replies. "The Winchesters inherited this bunker from the Men of Letters. They are legacies."

"Men of Letters...?" Cassie mutters the rest of the words for herself and had more questions, then answers. Seeing Dean's picture brought back a lot of memories and she found herself, becoming happy with the thought of seeing him again.

"Don't worry. He'll explain everything to you soon enough."

"Where is he?"

"He left. He had to leave to meet with the King of Hell."

Cassie closes her eyes and lets out a sigh. Right, Dean 'fought monsters'. She had forgotten about that little detail.

"Right."

"I understand you are a bit skeptical about the supernatural. Despite the brothers saving you and your family in the past."

"I wouldn't use the word, 'skeptical', Castiel," Cassie replies putting the picture aside. "I am a journalist. I deal with facts."

"Monsters are facts. We kill them every day."

"Are you a monster?"

"No, I'm an Angel of the Lord."

Cassie begins to laugh but seeing that Castiel did not break, she stops.

"Wait...you're not...joking?"

"I am not. When Dean went to Hell I brought him back. I've ended up rebelling and now work with the Winchesters. I'm banned from Heaven."

Cassie flitches again like someone had pinched her skin, almost dropping Dean's picture. Castiel watched attentively. Suddenly, the room appears to be too small for both of them.

"Want to show me around?" She asks trying to distract herself from the feeling. Castiel watches her closely. He walks past her, opening the closet and removing a pair of slippers.

"Put these on. The floor can be quite cold outside." He puts the slippers on the floor and Cassie puts them on her feet. "Are you alright?"

"No. I'm just confused. I appear to be in a bunker with an Angel."

"I see," Castiel walks back towards the door and opens it. "Let me take you on a tour."

Cassie walks out of the room to an empty hallway. Castiel closes the door behind him and leads the way down the hall. On the way to the big room, he points to Sam's room, to the hallway that led to the kitchen, to the hallway that led to the bathroom, the garage, and the basement. They crossed the library, with books shelves on both sides that went up to the ceiling and went to the main room where the big table with the map stood.

Cassie is surprised with this bunker, that looks more like a mansion than a bunker per se. Despite the heavy decor and old feel to it, it was a livable place.

"It is a bunker."

"Yes," Castiel replies with a smile.

"You said they inherited this?"

"They did, yes."

Cassie shivers "Let me get you some clothes. I'm sure Mary left some behind."

* * *

Cassie is left alone in the big room with the big table. She casually begins walking around seeing every detail in the room, from the books to the shelves, to the sole detail of the chairs. This was a place with history and with a past. Cassie leans over the table, quickly identifying the United States. She comes closer, looking for her state and she quickly found that, as well as her city. So, for those details, her memory was still there. She remembers her name, that she's a journalist, and works at a newspaper. She remembers the name of her country, her state, and her hometown. So, her memory wasn't completely gone. Her last memory was of driving. She knew she was driving, but had no idea where. Where was she going?

Suddenly, Cassie hears a whisper coming from behind her. Clear as day. She turns quickly to find the room empty.

"Hello?" She asks.

Again, she hears another whisper. She couldn't possibly be alone.

"Castiel?"

Cassie feels a presence coming into her ear and, instinctively, she walks back against a shelf. It was something big and powerful, taking over her.

A sense of dizziness comes over the young woman and Cassie misses the shelf, falling to the ground. The world begins to spin around her and everything comes in and out of focus. Her entire body arches in some impossible way, especially the inside of her thigh. The whispers begin crescendoing inside her head, with thousands of voices saying so many things at the same time in a language she couldn't understand. A feeling of dread comes from within her and she feels the world crumbling down around her. As she turns to face up, the young woman feels her throat closing. Her heart is racing. Her head is exploding with these whispers and rattling sounds coming from nowhere. Cassie grabs her own throat struggling to breathe. Tears fall down the side of her face, as the young woman believes she will die soon. The whispers are now screaming in her head. Behind her eyes weird flashes appear, showing patches of darkness attached to images of horror. They are blinding, hurting, and devastating. Like scratching nails on a blackboard.

When Castiel returns with some clothes and a clean towel, he doesn't see Cassie standing up, but instead her naked feet moving from behind the table. He runs to her to the woman unconscious. Looking at the young woman, his suspicions were confirmed. There was something wrong with the young woman.

"Cassie"? Castiel calls her name, but she doesn't reply. "Cassie!"

He shakes her awake, but the woman doesn't show signs of returning to the present. Castiel puts a hand over her forehead, calling Cassie back to the light and sees, again, nothing but darkness. Castiel pulls Cassie back with his powers and the woman regains consciousness.

Cassie returns with a gasp and with clear fear in her eyes.

"It's okay. You're alright."

"What...what happened?"

"I was just about to ask you. You were on the floor. I believe you fainted."

"No..." Cassie says looking around frightened. "Something came to me."

"Came to you?"

"Yes."

"That would be impossible, nothing monstrous can come in here or at you. The place is warded."

Cassie remains silent. Perhaps it was just in her head.

All of a sudden, she had the feeling she was dirty and filthy.

"I need a shower."

"Of course,"

Castiel happens Cassie to stand, holding her close. He goes back to pick up the clothes and towel he dropped when coming to Cassie's aid.

He guides her towards the bathroom, showing her how the shower works.

"If you need help, do call me."

"I will"

* * *

Cassie takes a long time in the bathroom, but not because she was indeed filthy (despite being), but because she spent time analyzing the bruises on her body. She stood there in front of the mirror, analyzing every single inch of her body under the cold light. She takes off her towel and stares at her naked body in front of a mirror. The bruises on her body had a pattern and placing that seemed familiar. However, the first thing that caught her eye was the big marking in the middle of her chest. It was so fresh, it still hurt and was tender to the touch. It wasn't a burn, but it seemed like it had been carved. She had seen something like this somewhere else before, but she couldn't figure out where. Her nails were all broken, their bruises on the palm of her hand, as if she had held something hot and burnt the skin right off. Her stomach showed a cloud of dark bruises that went from her side to the navel. Her arms displayed scratches, wounds, and rope burns on her wrist. On her legs were clear markings that she tried to climb something, but didn't succeed. Then, she noticed something: on the outside of her thigh, a marking was freshly made, just like the one in the middle of her chest.

Her mind is puzzled with possibilities and questions. However, she wasn't really scared of not remembering, instead, she was genuinely confused. It all appeared so distant, so mind-boggling and so impossible, that it just couldn't be.

Cassie faces herself in the mirror. Aside from the visible weight loss and the growth in her hair, Cassie saw herself being the same. She comes closer to the mirror, just inches away from the glass, analyzing every inch. For a split second, it seemed that her reflection moved the corners of her lips when Cassie didn't. Perhaps, it was just a trick of the mind.

The young woman turns away from her reflection to get dress, failing to notice that her reflection didn't turn at the same time as she did., nor did it bent down to pick up the shirt from the chair. However, when Cassie returns to the mirror, the reflection is mimicking her again.

As the shirt is around her neck, Cassie notices something on her should, she turns slightly to see long scars spreading down her shoulder to her back. She had been whipped. As she looks at the scars, Cassie swallows back her tears.

The hears the muffled sound of a car approaching. Seconds later, she recognizes Dean's voice talking loudly and cursing. Someone replied, probably Cass, and Dean replied again with curse words.

Cassie finishes up getting dressed, putting on the same old pair of slippers Cas had given her, and walks out of the bathroom.

* * *

Cassie goes up the stairs, arriving at that same hallway that led to the main room. She could hear Dean. Her heart was racing, her mouth dry and there was this fire burning inside of her chest, just with the thought of seeing him again. Just as she thought, Sam, Dean, and Castiel were all standing by the stairs talking about something Cassie didn't understand. She stood there for a few seconds, but Sam noticed her.

"Cassie," He acknowledges the young woman and she smiles back at the Winchester.

Dean slowly turns to look at her and Cassie feels a hit right on her heart. It was him. It was just him. Older, yes. With some grey hairs already showing under the sandy blonde and some wrinkles around the eyes, but it was still him.

Everything came crashing down. Cassie's eyes fill with tears and the young woman begins to sob uncontrollably.

In two steps, Dean was holding her close to his chest. He whispers in her ear that all is well and that he has her now. She's safe, but Cassie doesn't stop. The grip around Dean is tight, not letting him go.

Cassie looks up at Dean, his green eyes as enticing as ever.

"Hi." She greets among the tears

"Hey, you." Dean wipes away her tears "I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"I am."

"Then, why are you crying?"

Cassie steps away from Dean and smiles.

"I don't know, honestly."

Dean reaches out to touch Cassie's face. As he was inches from touching her, Castiel's hand grabs Dean's wrist stopping him mid-motion and holding him in place.

"Don't!" Castiel orders to Dean, then facing the young woman. Confused, Dean attempts to release himself from the grip of the angel.

"Let me go, Cass."

"No,"

"Cass, what fu-"

"You can't touch her."

"Why not?" Dean asks. He tries to take his wrist back, but Castiel doesn't move an inch. "Will you let me go?"

"No"

"You're hurting me, man."

"If I let your hand go, you're going to touch her."

Sam, who is a few steps behind and who had carefully grabbed his gun, approaches the group.

"What's wrong, Castiel?"

Castiel does not avert his eyes from Cassie and neither does she. It's an intense exchange between the two of them.

"You're not Cassie," the angel accuses.

"What?" Sam and Dean ask in unison.

"She. Is Not. Cassie."

The entire room becomes silent. All eyes fall on Cassie who remains in silence and keeps staring back at Castiel.

"Cassie?" Dean calls her and the young woman blinks slowly.

Then, without a warning, Cassie's mouth opens wide and she lets a gut-wrenching scream from the top of her lungs. The Winchesters cover their ears in fright. The lights in the room explode and the emergency red light comes on. The entire bunkers seem to shake to its core and Cassie screams louder and louder.

Just as quickly it came, it went.

Cassie faints and the room becomes dark.


	4. Chapter 4

Hi guys, here goes as follows another chapter. I'm doing this story more like an instinct kind of thing. I've had this idea for a while, but I had no idea where to go so I'm just writing it as it comes through me. While I thought it was a good idea to make it just a Supernatural story, I believe - and I'm also more comfortable - making it a crossover. We'll see what happens.

I will try and make one chapter every month.

Thank you.

* * *

**4**

**THE LIVING WE WELCOME**

**BEFORE**

After talking to Cassie and arguing his side, Reuben walks out of the building. He needs to clear his head, his spirit, and his heart. He walks right past the front desk yelling at the security to let him pass, despite not having his card on him. He passes by the restaurants and stores, the people at the bus stop, and those walking with him on the street. He crosses the street, half running, half walking, and continues walking past a liquor store, a comic book store, and a beauty salon. He takes an immediate right to find a tall wooden door between two old buildings. He pushes the wooden door finding himself in a familiar alleyway. He was still outside, the blue sky above and between two buildings. That door could be easily opened and easily jumped to the other side, but somehow, he felt as if he had left all his worries behind him. He walks to an old chair, that has seen better days and better ways, and sits. From behind an old pipe, he takes a pack of cigarettes that had been sitting there for months waiting for his return. This was a place to be quiet, even if it was outside and in between old buildings. He looks up, sees the bright cloudless sky and sighs. His eyes come jumping down from one window to the next window. One was open with its curtains flying out to the wind. The other was open but didn't have any curtains. Most were closed, many with the blinds shut. The fire escape in both buildings needed work. Just by the look of it, it didn't feel safe. But for him, it was a place to be quiet for a few seconds.

He had found that place by accident when he was a young man. Cassie's father and himself were running down that same street avoiding a fight with a gang of bikers when he spotted this open door. In an impulse he went in, pulling Cassie's father with and closed the door behind them. It was dark that night and that door was placed in a dark spot, meaning you either knew it was there at night or you'd walk right by it. Most of the people who knew about this door lived in the two buildings and used it to get into the building through the fire escape when they forgot their keys. Reuben and his friend stayed there quietly, hiding in the shadows. As the biker gang ran passed they held their breath and hoped no one would notice them. They didn't. And that spot became their secret spot. When Cassie's father died Reuben stayed here for ours, smoking a cigarette after another. It was his spot to grief and to feel sorry.

Reubens's eyes come down to the pack of cigarettes. They remain closed just as he had bought them. He had promised his wife he would stop smoking and he had kept that promised all these years. The pack was a reminder of what used to be and a test to his spirit. If he opens the pack, the problem or quest or challenge has defeated him.

He twirls the package in his hand and thinks about Cassie. What a stubborn woman.

Yes, she was right. there was a group of serial killers, although they wouldn't go by that definition. Yes, they were a big group that moved fast and disappeared faster. Yes, it wasn't random, the people we connected for a reason. Yes, there was a pattern. Yes, the FBI and police wherein on it. And yes, so was Reuben. Not only was his job to not go too deep as to people would begin asking questions but not deep enough to raise suspicion, it's his job to also provide an environment that would allow this entire scheme to keep going.

So, he would do his job.

He would assign a journalist to a disappearance. He or she would follow along with the case and report on it for about three or four days. That's usually how long it took before the traces grew cold, they abandon the case and return for another two or three days after the body was found. His job was to keep the ball rolling at the right speed and all was going well. This model was working until Cassie wanted to be in and if Cassie wanted to join, he couldn't say no without it being suspicious. So, he allowed her to work the case and follow the case, but contrary to others, Cassie wouldn't let it die.

Now, it was a matter of knowing what to do next. He knew Cassie was going to blast that case online. He knew she was getting closer to the fire and he knew it wouldn't be long before there was a knock from the past.

On the other side, Cassie was his best friend's daughter. He saw her grow up. Held her in his arms, fed her, watched over her as a father would. Reuben had children of his own with his wife, but he felt more like a father to Cassie then to his own. Her father was his best friend since they were little. She was a family.

He keeps twirling the pack of cigarettes in his hand. What he said was true. It was a risk to out this story out, not only for the newspaper and all its works, but mainly for Cassie who didn't know, and couldn't guess, what she was walking in to. He needs to stop it now and stop it good. There was a purpose behind these disappearances and, despite not being a part of it anymore, he was secretly rooting for all to go according to the bigger plan. Suspending Cassie would give him time to act and would put her on the back burner at least for a few hours.

It was not only Cassie's ass on the line, but it was him too. He had to open doors to close them. Allow minimum information to pass and to stop any other heroes trying to make a story out of this. That was his job.

He puts the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, puts the old chair away, and opens the door that led to the street. As he walks out, he sees parked on the other side of the street, a black SUV. He instantly recognized it. His heart began racing in his chest as the window of the SUV rolls down and he sees the redheaded twins staring back at him. One of them even waves at Reuben.

They know.

They're here.

She's here.

He doesn't wave back. Instead, he walks away from the SUV which doesn't move from its place, but the director knows his being watched.

Reuben returns to the Gazette's building. On his way in he sees Cassie driving out of the building in a haste.

He walks in the Gazette seeing the security lady again but ignoring him.

He gets in an elevator and goes to the third floor, where the newsroom is. As soon as the doors open it's rumbling with noise. Phone calls coming in, people talking, typing away on their computers, laughing, televisions running on all major channels in the country. It's alive and well the newspaper.

He sees Milo walking towards but, as the young man sees the director, he changes direction.

"Milo!" Reuben yells. A couple of heads turn when the director yells. The young man stops and slowly turns to face the director.

"Boss?"

Reuben stops in front of Milo and shakes his head negatively.

"My name is Reuben. Everybody knows me by my name. We journalists treat each other by our names."

"Yes..." Milo nods. "Reuben."

"Good." Reuben lowers his voice before and looks around "What did you do with all the information you guys gathered?"

"I was going to pack them."

"And do what?"

Milo blinks nervously and touches his glasses

"Just put them in boxes and store them..."

"Do you want to get fired-?"

"Cassie asked me to leave them at the entrance, Reuben. She'd said she would pick them up later"

"She's going online with it, isn't she?"

"That's the plan."

Reuben looks at the newsroom still tussling with news and events happening. Then, he turns to Milo.

"How long have you been with us, Milo? Three months?"

"Six."

"You've been with all editors, yes?"

"Yes."

"What subject do you like the most?"

"What do you mean?"

"Doing Crime with Cassie is not for a guy as yourself I can tell."

"Technology," Milo replies almost instantly. "David is a pretty cool guy and we get to experience all types of gadgets. Did you know he was one of the few who got an Alexa prototype even before it got to the market? He has seen the new iPhone and the presentation is not for months!"

Reuben nods.

"I know. Everyone knows. Technology has its perks," Reuben gets closer to Milo "Also, you do know the Frankfurt fair is coming soon, yes? Also, Web Summit."

Milo's eyes grow wide.

"Yeah, I know! I would love to go to Frankfurt. That's like...one of the biggest in the world with technology, gaming, gadgets...it's everything!"

"Let's take you to it, then!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"I would love it!"

Reuben nods. He had him! He approaches Milo and speaks on a lower voice.

"Get those boxes to my car and you'll be working full time, with a full times salary, all the bonuses and I'll get you on the list for Web Summit, Frankfurt and all other technologic fairs. David is tired of making these trips, the years are catching up to him and I want someone who has a fire within. You have it. Get me those boxes and I will sign your contract today, Milo."

Milo looks around processing information. Didn't take long. The young man held out his hand.

"Keys?"

Reuben takes his car keys from his pockets and hands them over to Milo. The young man holds the key his hand and then frowns.

"How do I know you're not playing me?"

Reuben walks to the nearest desk. He greets the young journalist who was typing away and asks if he can use the phone. The young journalist says okay so Reuben Picks up the telephone and dials the numbers slow enough so Milo could see who he was calling. A few seconds later, Reuben speaks

"Get me, Margaret."

Milo's eyes grow bigger, as do the eyes of the young reporter at the desk. She looks at him with a smile. Margaret was the one who handled HR. Everyone knew Margaret and when she got involved, it was a serious business. For bad and for good.

"Yes, Mags. Reuben here. Will you draw me a contract for Milo? Yes, the young intern. Yes, we are keeping him. I agree he has potential. Technology. He'll be working with David. Yes, it was about time. Poor David. Can you get me the contract by the end of today after legal has a look at it? Great. Keep me posted!"

Reuben hangs up the phone and looks at Milo.

"Good enough?"

"Good enough."

"Now, get me those boxes. The car is in the parking lot. Ask for help if you need too."

Reuben walks away letting Milo to be congratulated by the journalist in her desk.

The Director leaves the newsroom through the emergency stairs. His office wasn't on the same floor. Journalists were loud, they laughed a lot and kept walking into rooms without knocking. It worked for a month, then he changed his office to the upstairs floor with the entire commercial team and IT.

Reuben walks towards his office, but from a distance, his secretary is already standing up and looking anxious. Reuben walks past her without slowing down.

"I know. I have a meeting now..."

"They haven't arrived, yet. But-"

"Then call them back before they arrive and reschedule. I'm leaving for the day."

He opens the door to his office and stops suddenly. Another person is sitting in his chair.

The secretary comes out right on his heels.

"I tried to stop her but she just walked right in"

"It's fine. Thank you."

Reuben enters his office, closing the door behind him. It was a moment he had been dreading for a while, but he knew it was a matter of time. He fights old impulses and urges while taking a step towards his table. The woman sitting on his chair continues to smile as if she were a nice person.

"Hello, Reuben."

"What a fuck are you doing here?"

The woman shows a fake frown. She was still beautiful even after all these years as if the years hadn't caught up with her yet.

Dressed in all black, her honey skin tone fit perfectly. Anne had a shaved head with a scar on the side. She wore that scar like a flag of who she was and the fight she had won. Her lips were painted red completed with a thick eyeliner which brought out hazel eyes full of malice. Despite being a warm day, she had a turtle neck, a long black jacket, and a short dress. Her black tights made her legs seem longer and her needle heels made it wonder if it was possible to walk in such shoes.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me, Reuben."

"Do I look amused to you?"

"No, but you never really found things funny. You were such a sower puss."

"Get on with it, Anne."

The woman ignores his remark. She looks around Reuben's office, which was a remarkable size. Anne picks up a snow globe with a tiny man inside and gives it a shake. "I like your office."

"Thank you."

"Look how far your connections have brought you. Director for the Gazette, huh?"

Reuben approaches the desk standing right in front of her with hands in his pockets. Anne couldn't see, but he was balling up his fist.

"What do you want?"

The woman swings in his chair, continuing to smile. She puts the snowball to the side. There's a glow in her eyes.

"Came to tell you, I'm taking Cassie"

Reubens's heart sinks.

"What?"

"You heard me. I'm taking her."

He lunges toward his desk and slams his hands on the wood.

"You wouldn't,"

"If you have doubts you don't know me that well-"

"Cassie has nothing to do with any of this."

"Now, you know that statement is false." Anne shakes her head. The glow in her eyes continues with intensity. "She's coming. I got the twins and Ruby on it."

"Ruby? That demon is still around?"

"She's a demon, my dear. She'll always be around."

"You sure that's a good having the twins walking around. They are missing people, you know?"

"As if anyone looks at those posters..." Anne replies rolling her eyes.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you taking her?"

"Because Cassie came too close. Did you know our little darling got hold of our informant in the FBI and began bribing him? She was walking up and down asking these unnecessary questions. We can't have that you know. Secrecy is the soul of our business"

Reuben looks at the woman and squints. Having people "asking questions" was never an issue. This entire situation of people disappearing wasn't 'new'. Conspiracy theories were flooding the internet, so the fact that Cassie was out here asking questions wasn't a problem.

It was something else.

Reuben stands upright and takes a step back. He even dares to let out a smirk.

"No. That's not it." Anne cocks her head, never losing the smirk on her lips. "What day is today?"

"Do I look like a calendar to you?"

"The cycle is closing. Winter solstice is approaching and you don't have the right person yet. You're desperate."

Anne looks away.

"How many people have died already? 30 or more this year alone? None of them worked. That's why you want Cassie. Your time is running out. She's your daughter, Anne" the woman's confidence shakes a bit. She turns away from Reuben, looking out the window and paying attention to the cars in the street. "She has your blood. I'm sure the Patrons are pressuring you. I'm also pretty sure this was their idea, not yours. You can't pull it off alone. You need her. "

The woman removes her feet from his desk and stands to look at the window.

"You want to know what is so ironic about all of this? Is that the people we choose, are being used for a bigger thing, and yet they have no idea. We look for people who have deep ties to our organization, whose ancestors belong to us. Whose blood and DNA belong to us. They are part of this construction. And yet, they can be so weak. Their bodies are no more than a conduit for something bigger, but none the less, in their ignorance and oblivion, they can be so miserable. They all seem so desperate and weak when they reach the end. So human. So fragile of spirit. Some cry, others ask why, a lot of them fight us off. We are creating a new world and they don't understand. A new world requires a sacrifice. For a new King to rise there has to be blood in the battlefield." Anne turns to Reuben without a single drop of sympathy in her voice or eyes. She was being practical. "We are building a new era for mankind. We need all hands on deck. We need the blood, the sweat, the tears, the flesh of all. And_ that _includes Cassie. Especially, because she is my daughter and I am the Head of this organization.

"In the grand scheme of things Cassie, like the others, is a speck of dust. What the world will become after her will be so great, she will even become a martyr."

"What if it doesn't work?"

"You said it yourself. I am the Priestess. It's my blood that runs in the Organization. It has for many years now. It will be my blood that will open the gates for the new world. "

Reuben shakes his head

"You make me sick."

'I don't understand why you judge us so wholeheartedly when you are a part of Us. Long before Cassie, long before her father, the newspaper, or this little office of yours, you were with us. Your hands have blood as well. Or have you forgotten?"

"I got out!" Reuben replies. "I have built a life away from all of that and have become someone new."

"You can't just 'get out', Reuben. The only way out is death, and even so, it might not be." Anne opens her arms 'Look at me. I am dead, yet I live."

Reuben looks away. Suddenly, the shame and guilt run over him like a truck.

In the beginning, before he knew what it was, Reuben had joined this organization. In it, he had found companionship, understanding, and union, the elements he lacked in his real life. He found that his ancestors had been founders and he was treated like royalty, alongside a few other members, like Anne. He abandoned his parents, who didn't agree with such a lifestyle, and in that Organization, he found his true family.

He had been a part of the groups that went out looking for candidates. He had been one of them with heart and soul. Yes, there was blood in his hands and, no matter how much he tried to wash them, they would never be clean. He had seen things he'd never forget. He had prayed to the wrong God.

One day, just a few hours after the last candidate had died by his hand he saw her. His wife, Maria. A pretty young Latina with a fiery heart and a beauty that couldn't compare. She was walking down the street on her way to college carrying all her books and listening to some old tape. He fell in love immediately.

The romance was a secret, after all, the members could not date outside the organization as the DNA had to prevail. So, he left with Maria. He ran away in the middle of the night with her and began his life somewhere else hoping love and kindness would make him want to get better. As he wasn't followed or hunted, Reuben believed the Organization had let him be. He was happy to back then.

However, when he saw Anne again, as the girlfriend of his best friend, he knew he would never be out. They knew. They had sent Anne has a reminder of his past. Royalty can't leave. Royalty carries the organization. Royalty can never die.

Anne walks around Reuben's desk to stand right next to him.

"You're still a member Reuben. Remember, you and I are one of the few originals. Our families created this Organization. Running off to the hills with a simple mortal like you did is, according to our laws, is a crime payable with death." Reubens looks at Anne with a speck of fear in his eyes. Anne sees it and goes in for the kill "Therefore I will expect you to be there when we bring Cassie in. Failure to comply will result in the death of your entire family by our hands"

Reuben growls.

"Touch any of them and I will put a stake through your heart."

Anne smile returns

"What heart?" She pats Reuben on his shoulder and walks towards the door. "You'll get the invitation to the mail. Make sure you bring your attire."

"I'm not going."

Anne stops by the door.

"Oh Reuben, we both know that we will see each other at the ceremony. If not because of sheer curiosity, perhaps even excitement as having this come to fruition, at least for the sake of your poor little wife and ugly kids."

The director turns to face her with a look of disgust in his face.

"How can you call yourself a mother?"

Anne shrugs.

"I never did. Ask Cassie, I was a horrible mother. I never really wanted to be one. To me, she is nothing more than a possible vessel for our cause." Anne cocks her hear and tightens her face. "I forgot. I will also be inviting that poor little boy...what's his name? Milo."

"Why?"

"You wouldn't think I'd leave any loose ends, would I? He probably won't be coming in tomorrow." Anne opens the door and prepares to walk out of his office. "Send my love to Maria and the kids. I haven't seen them in a while. I sure miss her pot roast"

She slams the door behind her leaving Reuben alone and shaking. The Director takes a seat at his chair, removes his glasses, and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath, before opening his eyes again. Just like Anne had predicted, a sense of excitement came over him. There was a possible solution ahead. Reuben covers his mouth with a hand, feeling tears burning at the back of his throat. Were this happiness and sadness? A mix of feelings he couldn't describe just yet? Yes. On his desk, Reuben has a secret drawer that only he has the key for. He removes the key from his pocket, unlocks the drawer opening it. In there, there's an old photograph of his entire Organization. Men and women, from all backgrounds, races, ages, but with one thing in common: a DNA that connected them to one of the oldest Organizations in the world. He saw himself wearing a black cape, with a long neckless around his neck that symbolized his status within the Organization.

He touches his image. A fire we thought was long dead before he was now lit again.

Quickly, he wasn't sorry for Cassie, but instead thankful.

He didn't even feel sorry for Milo.

* * *

As Anne walks through the building she can feel eyes glued to her. It was all too much of course. All dressed in black, black heels stomping away, no hair but a long scar across her head and those red, red lips. She was a beauty to look at and she knew it. However, Anne had the power to mesmerize people when they saw her, but as soon as she disappeared they'd forget they had seen her. It was amazing.

As she walks out of the building, she sees Milo walk not far from her carrying a set of boxes. He puts the heavy boxes down on the ground and takes a deep breath. Anne stops looking at the young man. Milo notices his being watched and stops moving. Anne waves at him gently and winks. Reluctant, Milo waves back.

At the same time, a black Bentley arrives at the curb. The driver gets out of the car and opens the door to Anne, who enters next.

Anne sits in the back seat of the car, taking another gander at Milo who has reclaimed his job.

"Tell Ruby to come and fetch Cassie's assistant when she's done. Her is very important to us. "

"Yes, Ma'am." The assistant replies.

The driver returns to the car and begins driving.

"What do we have?" Anna asks while looking out the tainted window.

"Well..." The assistant next to Anne taps the tablet fast and swiftly. She's a pretty blonde little thing, daughter and great-granddaughter of founders of the Organisation. She was serious, competent, and fierce at doing her job. However, the young woman wasn't there to shadow Anne or to learn from the job, she was there to be a mole for the Patrons - those who paid for the entire organization and doubted, again and again, of Anne's ability to carry on such an enterprise. "We have confirmation of some patrons from Switzerland, Poland, and Russia."

"Have they paid?"

"Yes, in full."

"Always on time."

"Indeed. We had a particularly generous amount from Russia, who has also volunteered to host this year's event."

"Respectfully the American chapter will decline. We hold the Chair, represented by me, and the event will take place in American soil. After this, there won't be any more events of the kind, but they are more than welcome to continue their devotion from afar, or visit us"

"Our list grows longer and longer, Ma'am. We expect a very high rate of participation for this year. Bigger than the previous years." The assistant included. The young woman reaches down into her bag and takes out a file from her bag. "We have also received a few suggestions from our recruiters."

The assistant hands over to Anne a group of photographs. Anne takes the pictures analyzing each one without interest. She tosses them on the floor of the car.

"We already a vessel for the ceremony. Ruby has her now."

The young assistant's eyes grow bigger.

"Which one? The most recent batch didn't work."

"That information is classified."

"Ma'am the Patrons have the right to be informed when a vessel is acquired. When was this accomplished?"

"It just was."

"Who is it?"

The young woman insisted. Anne looks at the blonde and raises an eyebrow.

"You, and everyone else, will know when the time is due. It won't be an easy task, time is not on our side, but we will have enough time to break her and make the possession easier. We have to take her in now, so we can have her ready."

The young assistant remains silent, choosing her words carefully.

"Well, having that information in mind, it seems fair to add that some of the Patrons have voiced their concern regarding your choices, Ma'am." Anne looks at the young assistant. The young woman is not facing her, instead, she is looking down and, without realizing, clutching the iPad. " They feel like there have been too many mistakes and that our trail has become too obvious. They fear, our cause will become public and cause harm to our institution. Our arms are long and in various corners of our society. The last thing our Patrons want is public knowledge of their existence. Even if a simple rumor."

Anne takes a pause. She looks at the young woman, who doesn't look her in the face, instead is looking forward. The driver stops the car at a red light but watches nervously through his review mirror. Anne could try and lead by force, perhaps even violence, however, she takes a deep breath. That little girl is also a Legacy. Her family is as ancient as Anne's, so there's no need for the violence.

"Do all the Patrons think in such a way?"

"Just some. The members with the higher rankings have voiced their concern."

"To you?"

The young woman takes a moment to reply.

"Just words that have come to my attention, Ma'am."

"Very well." Anne crosses her hands over her lap. "Do tell those same Patrons to have faith in us, in me, and our organization that all will be well. This cycle will be fruitful. We will achieve success."

"Yes, Ma'am"

"Don't forget to also add that, if any of them have a problem with me or my methods, that they can come to see me at any time. Any day." Anne shows her best smile. "My door is always open."

* * *

**NOW**

In the bunker, the lights have turned red and the alarm is blistering and echoing through the walls. As Dean stands up he seems the entire room is in a revolt, as if it had been through a tornado of some sort. He feels dizzy, confused, and tormented. There's a putrid smell in the air as if something rotten was being born right from under them. Dean looks for Sam, finding him unconscious not too far. The young brother has a small wound in his head from the fall, but other than that he looks well. Dean tries to stand up again but sees the entire room spinning. The sound of the alarm mixed with the smell and the confusion is making him panic.

Quickly, his eyes find Castiel who is now standing over Cassie looking down at her unconscious body.

"Cass!" Dean screams over the alarms. "What happened?"

Castiel does not move nor does he reply. Instead, he keeps looking at Cassie.

"Castiel!" Dean screams again, to no avail nor response from Castiel. The older Winchester couldn't even hear himself think with such a blasting noise coming from the horns. Dean covers his ears, closes his eyes, and screams.

Suddenly, the noise stops. Dean opens his eyes to find Castiel with his hand up, but not averting his eyes from Cassie. The lights are still red.

"Castiel, what the hell is going on?"

"I have made a mistake."

"What?"

"Did you touch her?"

"What do you mean?"

"At any point, did you touch her?"

Dean looks confused. He tries to remember if he had indeed touched Cassie or not during her stay at the bunker.

"I think I did, yes."

"Why would you do that?"

"It's Cassie!" Dean retorts "What are you talking about?"

Castiel looks at Dean. He has a shadow in his eyes. The angel is worried.

"You shouldn't have done that." Castiel points at Cassie. "Do you know who that is?"

"What do you mean?"

"No..." Castiel looks back at Cassie. "I knew something was wrong the moment I saw her. She flinched when I told her what I was and there was a shadow behind her eyes. Your Cassie is long gone, possibly dead, Dean."

"Then..." Dean looks at Cassie's body. "Who is that?"

"That is an ancient creature. One that I thought was nothing but a myth. It loves sacrifices, children preferably and was adored many centuries ago." Castiel looks at Dean. "Cassie is no more. She has become a vessel for the old God Moloch."

Dean's eyes grow bigger.

"What?"


	5. Chapter 5

Quarantine helped my creativity. I hope you all enjoy it. Stay safe out there.

* * *

**V - MIRROR, MIRROR**

**BEFORE**

When Cassie opens her eyes for the first time, she doesn't recognize the place she's in. Her eyes are foggy, her head hurts and she feels thirsty. She blinks several times to toss away the fogginess in her eyes. As her eyes adjust to the low light of her surroundings, panic begins to swallow her whole. The young woman notices that her feet are submerged in lukewarm water, she realizes she's in a sitting position on a wooden chair. Her arms were behind her back, her feet tight up to the legs of the chair and there's something against her back. She tries to move her arms, only as she does, something squeezes around her neck. Cassie tries to move her arms again, and again, something around her neck grows tighter with every move. She coughs and stops. There was no way to go. Cassie moves her head around trying to recognize her surroundings, just when she moves the rope grows tighter, so she stops. Her eyes scatter the surroundings as much as she can. From what she can see, Cassie is in an open room filled with candles that lit up the place, giving it an eery feel. It smells like something wet, damp, and cold. The walls are thick and ancient. They have an eerie glow to it, due to the water coming down from it in a light stream. There were no windows, but somehow she felt a breeze coming in. Probably, there was a door behind her.

After a few blinks and squints, Cassie finds her reflection staring back at her. There was a gigantic black mirror stationed a few steps away from. Suddendly, she begins to see more and more mirrors around her all shapes and sizes. Some hanging on the walls, others standing and there was one or two hanging from the tall ceiling. A wave of fear grew within Cassie as she realizes that not only she's not wearing the clothes she put on that morning, as she's wearing something else completely: a light white dress. Suddenly, her heart is beating in her chest as she feels the air vanish. Cassie begins to breathe heavily as tears swell up in her eyes. Her mind is racing. In a frenzy, she begins to move trying to flee from the ropes, but the more she does the more the rope squeezes around her neck and the lesser she breathes! In the peak of her despair, she lets out a heavy scream that echoes forever and begins to sob uncontrollably. Somehow, Cassie knew what this was. It would happen sooner or later. She'd dug too deep, rustled the wrong feathers and they had come after her.

Cassie screams again, this time her voice barely escaping her throat as the rope is stealing her ability to breathe. Her tears stream down her face like heavy rain, as bits and pieces of her life come flooding by, accompanied by scary questions with no answer. Would her death be quick? Would she be tortured like the others? Or worse? Would anyone notice her missing? Would anyone care? Would they mourn her? Are they going to mangle her body to a point of being unrecognizable? Will she suffer?

Suddendly, she begins to see spots in her eyes as the air quickly begins to fail her.

"Will you calm down?" A voice demands. Cassie stops moving. "Take a deep breath."

Cassie reluctantly does as the voice tells her, trying to steady herself.

"Do it like you are blowing a candle."

Cassie does she's told and begins to blow quick and sharp breaths. She tries to find the source of the voice, but the rope is so tight around her neck that she can barely move.

"Always so fisty." Steps begin moving closer to Cassie, but she can't see anyone. She feels the person standing behind her. "I'm going to loosen the knots a bit, okay? We don't want you to do die too soon on us."

Before Cassie had time to process, she feels cold hands around her wrists. Next, the tightness around her neck disappeared and she can breathe properly.

Cassie coughs roughly as the air returns. Her mind is racing with questions.

"Let me go."

"Let you go?"

"Yes."

"Why would I do that?"

"I'm a journalist. I know people. They would be looking for me."

"Would they?"

"Yes! Let me go?"

"What if I told you, no one gives a fuck where you are, who you are, or where you'd go? Especially, because you said you were going on a very long trip to '_find yourself_' and '_think things over_' because you felt your career has come to a halt. You need some time off. '_Please, don't contact me. I will call you when I'm settled_'?

Cassie's heart sinks to the floor. The young woman closes her eyes, repeating this wasn't real. It couldn't be real.

"Trust me, Cassie. Not a single soul will ask questions about you."

"What is this place?" Cassie asks as soon as her voice returns.

"A place where no one will ever find you."

As she hears the voice speak, Cassie feels a sense of familiarity. She knows this voice. The voice also knew Cassie had recognized it.

"Do I know you?"

The voice is silent. Then, slowly, the steps moved to her side. Without warning, a figure dressed in black appears from the left side. It tales Cassie a long time to recognize the woman without the hair. She's skinnier, older, appeared taller somehow, but it was her.

"Mom?"

The woman turns around and Cassie's entire world falls. It was her. Her mother. The woman who she missed so dearly.

"Hello, Cassie."

Cassie remains speechless for a few seconds, not believing what...better, _who_ she was seeing in front of her. "Oh uau...look at that. She's speechless."

"That's a first!" Ruby walks in Cassie's line of sight dragging a chair behind her. She seats not that far from the young woman, crossing her legs and showing an amazing smile. "Told you your mother was alive."

Cassie looks back at her mother. The look of surprise on her face quickly changed into something else. Something darker.

"There it is," Anne replies. "Remember when I told you she had my temper, Ruby? There it is. That anger in her eyes. That's all me."

"You fucking-"

"Now, watch your tone!" Anne interjects. "I may have been a lousy one, but I am still your mother and I am also the only one who can give you the answers you want."

Anne begins walking around with hands behind her back. She stops in front of a mirror and admires her figure.

"Time has slowed passed me, but passed still," Anne softly touches the lines in her face.

"You died," Cassie mutters with a quaking voice. "We buried you."

"I never died, dear child." Anne responds with a tone of disgusting in her voice." My cancer was real but my cure came easily. An easy trade."

"How could you?" Cassie replies with anger. "How could you put us through that suffering?"

"Pain is a process. From it, you emerged stronger." Anne replies with a calm tone in her voice and complete confidence. "You conquered your life in my honor. In my memory. You should thank me."

"You're not dead!"

"No."

Cassie had tears rolling down her face filled with anger. In a fit she begins to move again, making the ropes tighter around her neck and wrists. Patiently, Anne waits for the fit to stop and for Cassie to calm down.

The bald woman slowly turns to face her raging daughter, cocking her head slightly to admire the anger boiling within Cassie. She then walks towards her daughter standing at a safe distance with hands behind her back. Anne looks at her daughter with attention, with caution even. It was impossible to deny the similarities between Cassie had her father. From the color of her skin to the deep brown eyes, her wild hair, and even her fucking smile, the young woman had nothing from her. How could she even feel love or affection for something that wasn't like her?

Anne raises one hand and slaps Cassie hard on the cheek. Ruby hisses at the sound that echoes through the room. The slap works. Cassie immediately calms down.

Anne begins walking aimlessly under her daughter's gaze.

"I'm not dead. I never died. I am not ashamed, nor regret it. It was necessary."

"Fuck off!" Cassie screams. "Let me go, now!"

"No."

"What is all this? Are you a supervillain or something?"

"Remember that investigation you were doing regarding the mysterious disappearances all those years ago?" Cassie suddendly stops. "You had a map, pictures, autopsy reports, a source giving you all kinds of information via bribing? You had it all and you were right! That hunch you had that it was something much bigger than it appeared. You were right!"

"What?"

"Let me tell you a story: A long time ago, there was this young lady. She was very devoted. She devoted her life to others, to God and the church. She would feed the poor, the sick, the dying, and take care of the children. She would pray in the morning, evening, and before bed, also before every meal. She would go to mass every day at 5 pm and on Sundays at 10 am. She would confess every week to her priest, help the nuns with their cooking and bread making and help with the donations at the local orphanage. She was the purest soul. Not one evil thought, not one curse word, not one act of selfishness. No desires of the flesh, no temptations, no sins. Everything was for others. For church. For her God. The same one she wore around her neck in her cross and held tight in prayer. The woman saw God in every act. In every little thing. '

Anne walks away from Cassie's point of view, but the young woman could still hear her steps.

'One day the young lady was helping to feed the poor on the coldest winter night. The line was so long it curved around the church, but none abandoned it despite the falling snow and chilling wind. Then, without notice, five men erupted through the people pushing them and demanding to be fed first. They were thieves, scoundrels, some of them who have seen the inside of jail many times in their miserable lives. After the initial commotion, the young woman begged everyone to settle down and fed the men herself. You'd think this act of kindness would help her.

'After the people were all fed and the act of kindness was done for the night, the nuns retrieved to the back of the church. The young lady was inside the church having a last moment of prayer when she was caught by the same five men she had fed earlier.'

Anne came upon Cassie's right side. Suddendly, there was a mask of darkness in her eyes.

'They dragged her to the altar and had their way with her. Everything you'd thought could be done to a woman like her, in her situation, it was done. When it was over, she was left bruised, naked, bloodied, hurt, and abused in the church's altar. When the nuns found her you'd think they would help her, care for her...they didn't. They accused the young woman of her demise, tossed her out in the streets with her clothes ripped, her body stained, and without dignity. They would pray for her soul. The church closed the doors to her. God ignored her cries for mercy and help. Do you know who helped her?"

"I love this bit," Ruby adds letting out an evil smile.

Cassie remains silent.

"The local witch," Anne replies with light coming back to her eyes, " A just woman. A woman who knew what was right and wrong. A pariah of society. A woman who the church, the nuns, the priest, and society despised. However, it was this woman who saw another woman in pain and helped her. That same woman gave something the young lady couldn't get from God: revenge.'

Ruby stands up and walks up to Cassie with a spark in her black eyes.

'The witch told the young lady that she could help to relieve her pain, both physical and spiritual. The only thing the young woman had to do is say 'yes', which she did." Ruby replies unable to hide the smile on her face. "The witch helped the young woman become healthy again and together they worked on getting her revenge. 'The young lady craved what the witch had promised her. She wanted revenge, to take back her power, and to have justice. So, alongside the witch, they went after every single person who had wronged her that day. The young woman cursed the nuns and priest who didn't help her by tormenting their dreams with visions of horror - some of them committed suicide even by jumping from the church's bell tower. She hunted the men who abused her and one by one she ate their hearts, tongue, eyes, and liver. Finally, the young lady abolished all she knew about her old God. When it was time for mass, she locked attendants inside and set it on fire. She cursed God himself and he wept in fear."

Cassie looks at Ruby, whose eyes have become dark as night.

"You both sound crazy," Cassie replies without truly understanding what the story was about. "What does that have to do with me? What am I doing here?"

"You're a little slow, aren't you?" Ruby slaps Cassie in the cheeks a little too hard, showing the young woman her black eyes. "According to the old texts, the first seal would be "a soul of gold, a blinding light of holiness who would find the path through a lightless descent into truth" It took us a while to understand these words, as things are never clear, but after years of search we found her. That young woman was the beginning of it all."

"The first seal of what?"

"To open the door for Moloch." Ruby replies "Our God. The one who will bring a new order to the world. The ancient one"

"The seal spoke of breaking the light and that's what we did when the woman was first abused by the five men." Anne recounts. "Bringing the good soul to her knees, that was the humiliating and the turning of backs by the members of the church. The third seal was raising the new soul in a new light and showing her the true path by sacrificing her old self, which was achieved when the witch showed the young lady she could get revenge. The fourth was sacrificing the evildoers, which she did by haunting the nuns and priests in their dreams. The fourth was eating the festering, that was when she ate the body parts of the men who raped her. The last and final seal was spitting in the face of God and sacrificing the innocent, which she did when she burnt down the church in mass." Anne concludes. "This young lady is our mother, our blessing, our strength. It is because of her that Moloch is now free and is because of her that we look for his new vessel."

"This is not real..." Cassie mutters to herself. "This cannot be real." "It is," Anne replies. "Very real. "

"Let me go." Cassie orders again. "You need to let me go."

"I don't _need_ to go anything."

"People are looking for me!"

"Who exactly?" Anne asks her voice booming throughout the room. "No one knows you're here. No one cares!"

"Let me go!"

Ruby grabs Cassie's face and stares deep into her soul. Cassie feels a sense of horror coming through.

"Stop acting surprised, Cassie! You were on to us! You knew all those deaths were ritualistic. You knew something was off and it wasn't a psycho killing just for the sick of killing. You knew it was multiple killers, possibly a cult. Deep down you knew it was something dark and you kept on digging."

Cassie suddendly realizes what Ruby was saying. They were the ones who did all those killings, all those missing people, all those lives lost were all their doing. Cassie frees herself from Ruby's grip and looks at her mother who gives back a blank stare.

"Where am I?"

"You're home. Exactly where you're supposed to be."

"You need to let me go..."

"Cassie, you're not going anywhere."

"Let me go!" Cassie demands. "Let me go!"

The young woman continues to scream from the top of her lungs to be let go. Anne makes a gesture with her hand and suddendly Cassie is grabbed by a pair of hands. Cassie tries to fight them off, but they grab her harder and Cassie screams in pain.

"We could talk, but I feel you're too..._excited_ at the moment." Anne looks at the twins. "Show my daughter her beautiful suite. We will talk as soon as possible."

The hands move swiftly letting Cassie free from the ropes, as she continues to scream and kick to be let go. As Cassie is dragged by the men, Ruby looks at Anne.

"She's a handful, isn't she?"

"She's exactly what we need. Let her be angry, let her scream and shout. It will be easier to break her once we show her why she must stay with us."

"We don't have that much time. The moon is coming, you know that?"

"I know. We will get her."

Cassie is being dragged away by the two twins screaming and hollering. Her feet were dragging on the wet floor while her screams echo through the halls. Suddendly, she sees a window and stomps her feet on the ground to a halt. The twins begin to pull, but Cassie pulls back. The tug of war continues until the twins let go of Cassie and she falls on the wet floor. The fall hits her hard, losing all the air in her lungs. For a second, she loses a sense of where she is, laying on the floor gasping for the air she lost. One of the twins reaches her in two steps, grabbing the young woman by the hair pulling her back up. With a closed fist, the twin punches Cassie right in the face and the young woman falls again, losing consciousness.

One of the twins picks her up easily, tossing her on his shoulder. Together they walk to a wooden door, one opens the door easily and while the other walks in with Cassie on his shoulder. As he is inside, he tosses Cassie on the ground like a sack of potatoes, leaving her there.

Cassie opens her eyes just in the time to see the twins closing the door, leaving her in darkness.

As the twins make their way back, they can hear Cassie scream from the top of her lungs.

* * *

**NOW**

Dean watches closely as Castiel places Cassie on the floor of the basement, now quickly transformed in a prison. The angel had written protective spells and seals on the floor, the wall, and the ceiling of the basement. For a protective measure, he puts a chain around her ankle. If it was who he thought it was, that chain wouldn't do much, neither would all the seals.

As Castiel walks away from Cassie, the oldest Winchester looks at his past love with a tight heart and a weird need to touch her again. The more he looks at Cassie, the more he feels wanting her and can hear her voice in his head. His heart beats fast, he feels a tight grip around his stomach and, Dean could swear, he could smell her perfume despite her being so far away.

Castiel comes out of the basement closing the door behind him.

"Dean, you need to be away from her," Castiel warns, capture the oldest Winchester's attention. "It's not safe."

"I'm fine."

"You've come in direct contact with her."

"Why is that important?"

"It is because we don't know how powerful she is. We need to minimize any contact with her."

"It's Cassie. She's still there. I know it."

"You think it's Cassie. I mean, she looks like her, speaks like her and even might move like her, but how do you knot that it is, in fact, Cassie? If she's possessed, Cassie is probably not even alive."

"How can you say that?"

"Because you need to come to terms and understand what this could anticipate," Castiel adds with a lack of emotion. "This is not a reunion.

"What do you know about Moloch?"

"My knowledge of it is quite basic, I will have to ask around."

"Good"

Dean remains silent. He feels the touch of Cass on his arm and looks back at him.

"Remember, we must approach this like any other case of possession."

"Yeah, of course." Dean takes one final look at Cassie, still unconscious. "Of course."

Sam holds a bag of ice close to his head. The pain is eating through his skull as he tries to maintain his eyes open.

"How are you doing?" Dean asks his brother with worry. Sam lazily opens his eyes to face his brother.

"I'm okay. I'm guessing."

"How many fingers?" Dean holds up two fingers, but Sam only squints in response. "Okay, that's it. We're going."

"To where?"

"MacDonalds." Dean immediately tries to help his brother get up and, as Sam stands on his own to feet, he loses balance threatening to fall again. "Cas, call Martha. Tell her we're on her way to her house."

"No, no no..." Sam replies quickly, just as Castiel is picking up his phone and dialing Martha's number. "Not Martha."

"Why not?"

"Things are weird...between us..."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"Yeah right, Sammy. I know you. You probably said some mushy bullshit and she got mad at you. If you have a woman, grab her and take her, dammit!"

"That...sounds problematic, Dean..."

"Wanna check the scoreboard and see who's in the lead regarding women here?"

Sam rolls his eyes and sits back down on the chair.

"I'm not going to Martha's."

Castiel hangs up the phone "Martha says it's okay for you to go as long as you park in the back."

"Great!" Dean grabs Sam again by his arm, putting his arm around his neck. "Castiel is going to stay here, do some research, and call some of his winged buddies, while we visit the good doctor."

"Martha is going to be mad."

"Why?"

"Because we keep calling on her."

"You're overreacting. Martha loves us. Well, at least me, don't know about you..."

* * *

**BEFORE**

Cassie returns to the chair again, but this time she's not tied down. She has no idea how long it has been since she was last time in the presence of her mother. Days transformed into weeks and months as Cassie has been in and out of her room. Every time she'd come out, Ruby would ask a series of questions, make demands, and if Cassie didn't comply the demon would hurt her. Torture her to be more exact. At the end of the session, Ruby would toss Cassie back into the darkroom and leave her with her thoughts. The torture would be physical, emotional, and psychological. They were attempting to break Cassie's spirit. To run her dry of any sign of life.

Her room was buried complete darkness, damp and cold with no windows and just one door. She was fed old bread with stale milk and given water so dirty to drink it messed up her bowels. She had missed the notion of time and space. Cassie felt dirty, sweaty, and unlike herself.

"How are we feeling today?" Ruby calls out as Cassie is sat on the chair once more. The demon wore a beautiful short black dress with a revealing cleavage. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, a diamond choker was around her neck and her high heel boots went all the way to her knees. "You look a lot calmer now. You screamed a lot in the past sessions, I'm assuming you lost your voice?"

Cassie looks up at Ruby, showing her full wrath despite being exhausted.

Despite being held in complete darkness for days, every time Cassie was about to sleep a loud bang would wake her. For the short seconds she dared to fall asleep she would be plagued with images of horror and nightmares.

A loud sound of snapping fingers brought her back to reality and Ruby facing her.

"Remember the story we told you a few weeks ago. I believe it's time we continue with it and give you a little more context. Think of it as a pause, yes?" Ruby asks a silent Ruby. "In case you were wondering, I'm the wonderful young lady who believed in God."

Cassie looks at Ruby with a surprised look.

"I know. What a shocker, right? It's true. I was pretty devout. I loved God and all his things. I did work for the poor and needy. I was the victim of a horrible crime." Ruby's expression becomes serious and dark. "However, with the pain I received came a blessing. I was awake. I found the true path. Moloch is the one for me and all of his followers."

Ruby looks up and Cassie follows her gaze. She hadn't notice before due to the poor light, but above her stood a second balcony. There stood a group of people all dressed in black, with masks on their eyes and staring down at them.

"They all came to see you," Ruby whispers with an evil smile. "We have high hopes for you, you know?"

"Are you going to kill me?"

"Kill you? No!" Ruby stands up and signals with a hand. The same twins bring the same tall black mirror facing Cassie. Ruby stands next to the mirror. "We want you to say yes."

"What?"

"Look into the mirror and say yes."

Cassie looks at her reflection, starring back with the same confused look.

"What?"

Ruby snaps her fingers as if she had remembered something

"Silly me, we didn't tell you the rest of the story!" She looks up "We didn't tell the rest of the story, guys!"

The people above share amused grins and some even laugh. Ruby begins walking around Cassie with her heels clicking as she walks

"So after it was all said and done, the witch gave the young lady - or, me if you want - a task. Of course, she told me everything about Moloch after it was all done. Yes, I was mad for a few moments, but I understood it was for a higher cause. We needed a legacy. I was human, she wouldn't live forever. We needed more of us. The more of us, the stronger the will to release Moloch would be. There is strength in numbers."

"You see, due to the violence that was committed against me, while I was human, I couldn't bear any children. So, we went for the very next thing: desperate for families. Usually, large families who could barely survive. Families who were beaten down, depressed, on the brink of existence, and brought them a solution. In exchange for prosperity and wealth, we demanded they'd give us their younger ones. I know! It sounds horrible, but what could be worse: a family letting their children starve or exchanging them for a bit of coin, giving them to someone who could take care of them? With this we would make Moloch stronger because 1) when they accepted our offers, the families were selling their souls to us, and 2) we were receiving a new soul with the child. Isn't' that genius?"

Cassie looks up, some of the members exhibit a sense of pride and respect, despite the mask on their face.

"So we took the children in and we did something marvelous. We gave them demon blood to drink and performed a little something. They became halflings, half-human, and half-demon. We tight their souls to Moloch and their life to me. This meant they weren't normal children, despite looking like it. "

Ruby appears again in front of Cassie with her eyes as black as night.

"It was a chess move! So we raised the children, taught them about Moloch, and showed them the works. All the spells, all the curses, all the nightmarish things. We taught them how to turn more like us. Gave them my blood. Then, at the right age, we released them back to their families, to the world with a task: find a vessel for Moloch. The verse wasn't clear if it was someone good or someone bad, a man or a woman, young or old..."

Cassie recalls all the random victims that had popped up through the years without any connection at all.

"So after years of random kidnaps and failed attempts we concluded: perhaps, the answer wasn't outside the circle, but within. Our council decided to hunt and kill all of those who were half-ling. Whether they knew or not. Now, you must be wondering we would end up killing each other, no?"

"No..." Cassie replies quickly. "Many of the children you raised ended up having an offspring of their own. More chances of working through biology, right?"

Ruby looks at Cassie and claps loudly.

"You got it! So yeah, many of the reports you saw were of people who were within our group. Some new, others didn't. Some were truly hunted down, others were willing sacrifices. That nun you saw? She was one of us. That guy that ran over that man? One of us. The kid that was a pure saint and couldn't harm a fly? One of us. All of us."

"Is that why I'm here? I'm one of them?"

"Oh no, baby you're different. Your mother is different." Ruby stands next to the mirror. "See, despite me being the one who started it all and being my blood running through all their veins, we need some order. I prefer to do the leg work. So, I have a handful of them who kept everything in order. A council, one might say. These were my originals. These were children who had a dark soul. Whose evil was a natural: narcissistic, psychopaths, sociopaths, flawed, evil, dark, unemotional, detached.

Your mother was brought to me by one of those when she was just a child and when I saw her...I just knew. I gave her all my blood. It nearly killed me, you know? But I knew. She would be relentless. She's been a Priestess for a long time now. When she told me she had gotten herself pregnant and made you. Oh! What a moment."

The doors open all of a sudden and Anne walks into the followed, followed by the twins. She wore a long black dress, that covered her arms but showed her bareback.

"That is what I am as many of those who are watching you now." Cassie takes a glance at the balcony seeing even more people now. "We see the demons, hell, the blackness, and the evil within the world. We can cast spells, curses, and see through the veil of death. We can go to Hell and return. We adore it. It's in our blood since the beginning'

We live long lives, but unfortunately, we are still human. We have an expiration date as we are not fully demons. However, if you want you can trade your soul for longevity."

Anne blinks turning her eyes as black as night, making Cassie's heart sink.

"You will look into the mirror and accept Moloch."

"Why would I do that?"

"You will."

"No."

Anne takes a deep breath. Behind her, another pair of doors open. As they approach the light, Cassie can see they are carrying a male body. A body she knew very well. With no care, they drop him at her feet and Cassie can't believe her eyes.

"Is your answer still no?"

At her feet, lay Mark, her fiancee. Cassie suddendly remembers being at his store when Ruby walked him. She remembers him being punched in the face and helping him while down. She remembers walking out of the store with Mark by her side, but at some point, they were separated.

Cassie kneels next to Mark touching his face, calling his name. He's alive, but barely.

"What have you done?" Cassie looks at Ruby, then at Anne. "You fucking bitch! Let him go."

Anne takes two large steps and, in a swift movement, slaps Cassie with all her might. The young woman falls back, feeling the taste of blood on her lips.

Out of her sight, a group of people brings the same old chair, ropes, a jar, and a heavy rectangular wood basin. They place the basin on the floor, put the chair inside it, and fill it with water. Then, they grab Cassie, sit her on the chair, and put the ropes around her body just like the first time. At the same time, the big large mirror is brought just a few steps away from Cassie and all the others are erected or brought down at the same time.

"I'm getting tired of this," Anne replies. One of the people hands her a large knife she swiftly twirls around on her hand. "Look into the mirror and say yes."

"Fuck off! Let me go!"

Without a word, the group of people grab Mark and bring him close to Anne. He's held on his knees, his head being held by one of the members leaving his neck exposed.

"You can guess what will happen next, no?"

Cassie could easily guess what the next steps would be. The knife. Mark's position. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

"Please..."

"Oh, don't tease me! You don't even love him!"

"Please. Don't do this."

"Oh, this is not on me. This is on you. My request is quite simple: Look into the mirror and say yes."

Cassie looks at the mirror, looking into her eyes. A sense of fear overwhelms her, making her look away. It was if she was afraid of her reflection. As if, that reflection wasn't hers.

"Let him go."

Anne puts the knife closer to Mark's neck.

"Mark" The young man's eyes fly right open staring right at Cassie who's relieved to see life in him. "Any last words for Cassie?"

Mark looks at the young woman, but no words come out. He has tears coming down his face.

"Guess not." Anne points the knife at Cassie. "Any last words for him, Cassie?"

"Don't do this."

"Will you do what I say?"

Cassie looks again at her reflection. Despite being herself reflect on that black mirror, she felt something eerie. Made her stomach twirl. Her skin crawls. Her soul flees from herself. For a moment, her reflection winked at her when she didn't.

Cassie turns away again.

"No...no...I can't..."

"You're scared."

"Yes." Cassie looks at Anne with real fear in her eyes. "There's something..."

"In the mirror."

"Yes."

"And you're scared."

"Yes."

Anne lowers her knife.

"You have fear. A sense of self-preservation. An instinct almost that, despite your 'loving' Mark, won't let you fall deep into the dark. You think this will go away. You think there's a way out. You think this is a dream, a story, a moment. Your ego is still in the way." Anne walks closer to Mark, knife in hand. "Do you know how we fix that?"

Suddendly, Cassie fears both the question and the answer.

It all happened rather quickly. The knife that was pointing at Cassie, was back at Mark's neck and, in quick movement, slashed through his skin, catching both Cassie and Mark by surprise. She screams in horror. He couldn't.

"We take the ego away from you."

* * *

**NOW**

Dean is driving down the road on his way to Martha's house. He knows the way to the doctor's house by heart, but right now he couldn't wait to get there, fix Sam and come home to Cassie. He needs to see her again.

Suddendly, a vivid memory comes to his mind the last time they were together. The passionate, dirty, and amazing sex they had. How Cassie moaned beneath him, scratching his back and pulling his hair. How Dean wanted to make her scream, how he bit her, and grabbed her tight against him. He could smell her perfume, hear her moan, and feel her taste. He wanted her badly now.

Despite the window being fully open, the oldest Winchester still felt the heat coming. For a moment, he felt Cassie's lips on his ear lobe saying his name and biting just like she used too in moments of pleasure.

Dean is so deep into his memories he doesn't realize Sam has been talking to him for the last minute. He only notices this when Sam hits him on the leg.

"You missed it!"

"Hey! What the hell are you doing! I'm driving!"

"You missed the excited to Martha's house!"

Dean quickly understands that he has passed the closest exit to Martha's house. In a quick motion, taking advantage of the road was practically empty despite being mid-morning, Dean makes an illegal U-turn.

"There, on the right track"

"What's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You look weird."

"What? Shut up."

They kept on driving. Martha has a nice house in a classic upper-middle-class neighborhood. The type of neighborhood where everybody knows everybody, where they baked cookies for the ones they arrived, where the children played together, and where everyone knew what happened in each house. A place where there was always someone watching, listening, coming, or going. A community. A close one. Martha likes the sense of security and safety such a community gives, despite all of them being nosy as fuck. In time, she has learned the routines of her neighbor. She knew who was cheating on who and with who. Who had the most drama in the family, despite not appearing so in the streets. Who dealt with addiction and who was on the brink of divorce. Who suffered from loneliness or depression or both.

Despite knowing all of this, Martha keeps to herself. Her life. Her work.

Her house is the one right in the middle of the street. A two-story white house with a small lawn up front and parking space for two cars - despite Martha being single. The back of the house was nothing but an alley between Martha's and the neighbors. To avoid speculation, Martha asks the Winchesters to always park in the back and use the back door. It's with the surprise that she hears the roaring engine of the Impala 67 ride up her driveway.

Immediately, Martha opens the door and comes running out, meeting Dean as he's coming out of the car.

"What are you doing?"

"Nice to see you too."

"I said, park in the back of the house."

"What's the difference? I'm here already. We're in a hurry"

Martha grabs Dean by the collar of his shirt and pulls him closer.

"Go around the back before someone calls the police."

She lets him go and walks back into the house, closing the door behind her with the bang.

Dean goes back into the car, pulling away from the driveway.

"Told you to go around the back," Sam replies.

Curiously, a nosy neighbor was just standing outside their door watching the car come and go.

Dean walks into Martha's kitchen, finding her standing by her kitchen island.

"I'm sorry, okay?"

"Do you realize I'm going to have people asking questions about you, now? I try to stay in my lane and invisible here, okay? I don't need attention."

"Oh so, we cause attention?"

"Yes! Just pray, none of my neighbors called the local police and ran your license plate."

Sam walks in next. He locks eyes with Martha and things get tense. Martha's behavior immediately changes as she goes from tense, to relaxed after seeing Sam.

"Hi."

"Hello"

"I head you bumped your head."

"Yeah." Dean intervenes. "His skull and the wooden floor had an encounter of the first degree. Beer?"

"Fridge," Martha replies. Knowing the Winchesters could pop up at any minute, Martha always kept a six-pack in the fridge. She took special care to make sure it was Dean's favorite brand. "Let me get my medical kit. Sit down, Sam."

"Sam sits in one of the chairs to the island. Martha has a nice kitchen decorated in white and green. With enough space to cook, to eat, and to hang around while the food wasn't ready. Martha fell in love with the kitchen the first time she saw the house. It was her favorite room, despite not being the biggest of cooks nor having time to prepare big meals. Sam knew this kitchen made her remember home back in England. It was a fond memory of what she used to have before coming to the US.

"Hey..." Dean calls out. "Do you think this Cassie think is connected to the other thing Crowley told me?"

"The missing souls?"

"Yeah."

Sam shrugs and frowns.

"Bit of a stretch?"

"We've done more with a lot less." Dean takes a sip of his beer and then looks at his brother "Maybe we should call him?"

"Here?"

"Where else?"

"This is Martha's house."

"I'm sure she won't mind."

"Mind what?" Martha returns with her medical kit. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing," Sam replies quickly

"I want to ask a friend to come by since we're in town." Dean lies boldly. "He doesn't live far from here. It's just a quick visit."

"Do I know this friend?"

"God no!" Sam lets out. Martha frowns at him and Dean shakes his head. "No, no. He's just...you know, someone we know in the business."

Martha looks at them both. They were lying. The Winchesters lie a lot, that she knew. She also knew better than to ask questions and get more lies, which annoyed her.

"Sure."

Just by standing close to Martha, the youngest of the Winchesters feels himself melt. Martha still wore the same perfume, wore her hair the same way, and had her typical necklace.

"So, you fell?" Martha asks. She pulls out a small flashlight and points it at Sam's left eye.

"Yeah. Didn't have anything to break the fall with either."

"What happened?"

Sam takes the slightest pause.

"Coming down the stairs in a hurry. Must've lost my footing. Came rolling down."

"I see." Martha takes a look at the gash on Sam's head. The blood had stopped pouring, but it was still there. "You'll need stitches, but other than that, you're fine."

"Great**! I'm gonna go and call our friend, Sam." Dean announces as he leaves the kitchen. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Dean leaves the kitchen with a beer in hand. He crossed the hall, into the leaving room. Every time he walks into the living room he's surprised by the number of books Martha has on her shelf. It is like she keeps adding them, despite not having any more room. He takes out his phone, begins searching for Crowley's number...

"I'm already here." The demon announces himself making Dean jump. "And yes, this is Georgio Armani I'm wearing."

"I don't care."

"Clearly." Crowley looks around. "Now Dean, I would say this girl Martha has taste, but having in mind she's a friend with the lot of you..."

"Shut up, Crowley." Dean interrupts. "I want to ask you about-"

"About the cases I gave you. Of missing souls."

"Yes. Are they-"

"Related to the girl Cass found side on the of the road last night? Yes."

"How?"

"Do you know who Moloch is?"

"No."

"Then, we have a lot to talk about."

* * *

**THEN**

Cassie has been suffering for what it appeared to be months now. She has not seen the light for weeks, she hasn't bathed, been fed properly, or drank any clear water. She would be plagued with visions of horror, dreams that made her screams and nightmares that look as real as herself. Once the physical torture had stopped, Anne had become even more ruthless, demanding Cassie receive physical torture. This would include waterboarding, electric shocks, beatings, and cuts. They wanted to break Cassie's spirit and her mind.

After days and days of abuse, one day the door finally opens and Cassie is brought again in front of an audience. Since Mark, she had not been placed in front of the mirror. Back then, she felt she had the protection of something, right now she felt naked. Again, she was sitting on the chair, with her feet dipped in water in front of the main black mirror and its companions. She could see herself in all reflections but avoided them like the plague. Now, more then before, she could feel the mirrors looking back. They felt alive. She felt vulnerable, open, easy prey.

Again, she is placed sat in a chair, with her feet dipped in water, but this time she is not bound. Cassie takes a look at her own hands and is taken aback by the state of her skin and her nails. She looks down at her legs to see all bruises, markings, and cuts she's suffered all this time.

Her eyes wander around to room to find that this time there are candles scatter all over, illuminating the several mirrors. Cassie raises her eyes, to see even more of people up in the balcony. All wearing masks, all dressed in black. To her surprise, above them was the shine of the biggest moon right above Cassie's head.

"Cassie."

Cassie's eyes wander down to find Anne standing in front of her. Again, wearing a black dress with a mask on her face.

Cassie hadn't seen Anne in days, but somehow, she knew she had seen her many times before. Anne was the author of her nightmares.

Despite being in the same room, the same position, with the objects, this time was different. Cassie felt tired, exhausted, without any will of power. Aside from that, there was something in the air. Energy she couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but it was there.

There's a whisper in the air. The people in the balcony are all whispering something. It reminds Cassie of the wind blowing through the crack of a window. The mirror is brought closer to Cassie and placed right in front of her.

"Loot at it."

Cassie looks at the mirror and sees herself. Suddendly, she looks away and begins to cry.

"Let me go." Cassie cries. "Please, let me go. I'm tired."

"Tired?"

"Let me go, please." Cassie looks up at her mother. "_Mom_, please."

Anne raises an eyebrow, then closes her eyes.

"Why would you do this?"

The doors behind her open and two men carry a body again. This body Cassie didn't recognize right away. As the young man was brought closer to her, she slowly began to recognize him and panic took over her.

Mile was dropped on her feet. The young man was skinny, dirty, and bruised. Cassie begins to cry even harder when she realizes what happened to Mark.

"Cassie..." Anne calls her back to reality. Cassie looks at her mother amidst the tears. "Whatever you've been going through, Milo has as well."

"What?"

"Look into the mirror and I'll spare Milo."

Cassie looks at Milo who was still unconscious. Then, she looks back at the mirror.

"I can't..."

"Mark's body was found five days later on a dumpster downtown," Anne adds. "His mother had a heart attack and died a few minutes after receiving the news. His father has depression. His sister doesn't know how to cope so she has turned to pills. No one knows how it happened. Why it happened. Mark was loved." Anne walks over to Milo, squats down, and touches the young man's hair. "Now, imagine the pain this little boy's family will go through."

With tears running down her face, Cassie takes one stare again at the mirror. For a few seconds, nothing happens. It's just Cassie staring at herself.

Suddenly, everything goes quiet. Cassie is staring at her reflection, which stares back in defiance.

Cassie looks into the reflection of her eyes. As she stares deep into the darkness of her eyes, everything around her becomes shapeless. A deafening silence crowds her ears, as Cassie can't even hear the sound of her own heart. Without warning, her reflection begins to move. It was a subtle move, but it was movement. The reflection holds her gaze with intensity, pulling her in like a magnet.

A new movent, this time clear as day. The reflection tilts its head slightly as if testing the waters. Then, reflection falls on all fours beginning to crawl up to Cassie in a slow movement. The reflection approaches the glass, raising its hand, her fingers just inches away from the other side. It looks at Cassie, showing a dark smile.

Cassie feels the urge to run away, but many hands hold her against the chair. Contrary to Cassie whose eyes were wide open, the people holding her kept their eyes closed and kept whispering. Cassie begins to scream, but she can't hear her voice.

The reflection touches the mirror, her fingers making the cross through the glass. As her fingers cross to the other side, they are not human but made out of bone and melted flesh. As the arm follows Cassie can skin small holes on the skin oozing pus, bits of rotten flesh, and chewed bone. The other arm followed like a vision of horror. The head was hairless, with holes the size of peas showing the inside and all very much together. The eyes were nothing but two dark empty circles, the mouth with no lips, but a horrible rotten grin showing.

The reflection comes out. Standing in front of Cassie in all it's horrible form.

It asks a question, to which Cassie gives a positive reply. It then approaches Cassie, grabs her by the neck, and pulls her in. The reflection orders Cassie to open her mouth and the young woman does so. It then puts it's rotten fingers in her mouth, reaching down her throat. Slowly the creature made its way down her mouth.

To anyone watching Cassie was just laying on the floor having a stroke. She was gasping for air, her mouth wide open to an impossible dimension, her eyes as well looking at the moon. Anne didn't feel sorry. Anne didn't even care. She wants the final result. She keeps whispering the magical words, bringing forth Moloch from the depths of his cage through the black mirrors. The entire room in a trance. She can feel the energy, the demand, the desire of all present. It's hypnotizing. It's powerful. Like the slow-motion movement of a hummingbird.

Cassie's body arches in an impossible position, her bones breaking.

And then, it stops.

Anne raises her hand and everyone goes quiet. Ruby walks out of the shadows and falls to her knees.

"He's here." She adds.

Just like that, Cassie opens her eyes and all the candles blow out.


	6. Chapter 6

**New chapter! This one might have some trigger aspects as it involves blood and also cutting. It might be confusing all this back and forth between past and present, but it will make sense. **

**Thank you again. It's a slow one, but it's worth it! :) **

* * *

**VI - WE CAN DANCE IF YOU WANT TOO**

**BEFORE**

Milo couldn't understand what he was looking at, exactly. He couldn't even remember how he got there. According to his memory, he had gotten a match with a beautiful girl on Tinder and he was pretty excited for a possible date. He had taken a shower, shaved, perfumed, and was ready to make a good impression. Milo clearly remembers walking out of his house, towards one of the most popular bars in town to meet this girl. He remembers touching the handle of the door, inclusively walking inside the bar to see it pack and full of people. However, that's where his memories stop. He had woken up just a few seconds ago and couldn't be more confused. It was like a scene of a movie!

The easiest description of the reality he was now seeing it was as if something out of the movie Eyes Wide Shut with people wearing long capes, hoods, and masks covering their faces. He sees a young woman on her knees looking ahead and another one, an older woman with no hair, standing tall and proud. If he could stop time and take a still picture of this exact moment, this would be an intriguing photograph.

The only light in the entire area was the dim moonlight that came from the opening way above him and the scattered candles, giving an eerie vibe to the entire scene. He looks up at the sky wondering how long had he been inside this hell hole. Aside from the whispering, the only noise he could hear was the fast beating of his heart and the rushing of blood through his veins. Questions began to form in his mind as he was beginning to panic. How did he get here? What was happening?

As his eyes accustomed to being lighting, he sees the people around him, including those who were holding him a few seconds ago, kneeling with their arms stretched out in front of them, and their heads bowed between their shoulders. They kept whispering the same incomprehensible words in a loop, something of them moving alongside the words as if in a trance. He sees the abnormal number of mirrors scattered all over the place and is even more confused. The mirrors where all different sizes, but they were all black.

Quickly, he spots Cassie. As he was about to speak her name something stops him. As she stands up from the ground, he could tell that she was not the Cassie he once knew. There was something different about her, that he couldn't quite understand. It made his skin crawl; his insides turn and his instinct told him to run from it all. She stood taller than before. Her eyes were black as night and abnormally bigger. Her veins were visible from afar, her mouth contorted into something animalistic. Milo couldn't quite comprehend what he was looking at. It was like she was a creature from another world. Quietly and slowly he moves behind a mirror, watching the entire scene from a reflection. He looks around, his eyes falling on a nearby mirror and he sees something he couldn't quite understand. It was Cassie. The Cassie he knew and worked for. She was right there inside the mirror. She was banging and screaming in silence, moving as if she was underwater. He sees her and Cassie sees him as well, she begins to cry for help banging on the glass ever harder.

Cassie sees herself right in front of her. It was an evil version of her, a negative, a dark side she'd never seen. Her face was a dark mask. Unrecognizable, frightening. She continues to bang on the mirror, demanding to be let out but is as if she's underwater. No voice, no voice, no echo, no nothing. She could only watch from afar. She had seen Milo hiding, begged for help but quickly realized, he couldn't do much. He was just as much a victim as she was.

The looping whisper increases in volume and intensity. Milo feels a wave of energy in the air. Something so powerful, he can almost touch it and see it. He looks from behind his hiding spot to see the evil Cassie in front of a mirror saying the same words, but loudly. She holds out a hand and one of the attendees puts a large knife with a menacing blade in her hand. Cassie lifts her dress and, on the outside of her thigh, begins to cut her skin. Blood begins to drip down her leg as the whispers are now full-on screams. Milo covers his ears with fear that, whatever they were saying, could contaminate his brain. He takes a quick look at the mirror not that far from him to see Cassie continuing to scream, her leg dripped in blood just like her evil version. Then, the evil version of Cassie does the same on her wrist and in the middle of her chest. The same symbols appear on the Cassie on the other side of the mirror.

Cassie feels her skin burn as these weird markings appear on her arm, her leg, and in the middle of her chest. What was this? Again she banged on the mirror, screaming to help, but her evil version just smiled and continued.

The symbol itself is small and Milo quickly identified it - it was the same symbol found in all the victims that had gone missing all those years. Fear took hold of him as Evil Cassie puts one bloody hand on the mirror and the entire room falls calm. Milo takes one final look at the real Cassie's reflection seeing fear in her eyes. There's a split second, where the real Cassie seems to say mouth something to Milo.

From the other side, the young woman knew this would be her end somehow. Tears begin to roll down her cheeks. She sends a message to Milo. The first thing she'd think about and the only people who could help her with all of this.

But then it all happens so quickly.

The evil version of Cassie says one final word and all the mirrors explode into a million pieces, throwing debris and glass all over the room. The room falls into darkness as a gush of wind blows all the candles.

A fragile and old wooden door opens slightly not that far from Milo was hiding, so there's a way out. If he sprinted, without looking back and, with the help of the shadows, he could be free. He waited a couple of seconds and then bolts towards the door, not knowing where it took him.

Running through the dark he fell, hit walls, tripped, and banged his knees a couple of times. Fearing someone, or something was hunting him down in this rabbit hole of a cave he kept running to save his life.

Finally, he falls one last time, however when he does he falls in the wet grass. He fells the cold air of the night and sees the stars above. He got out. Not very far from him, he could hear the commotion of a road. Doing a half skip and half run he went towards the road, hoping to find a way home.

Moloch watches as Milo bolts for the door, but no one moves a muscle. He wasn't a concern, not at the moment. The old demon takes one look at the deep blue night sky and lets out a sigh. Finally, he could breathe the air of the living and even enjoy it before taking them away. He looks down, to the number of the devotees kneeling before him and feels his power grow. It would take a moment before he became his old self, but it wouldn't take long. He had the perfect vessel, a pureblood, and she was fixed on him by the inscriptions he wrote on her skin. There was no way for her to return from where she was sent. Her soul was lost in the depths of nothingness.

He looks to his side, finding Ruby kneeling with a look of devotion in her face. When their eyes meet, she smiles, and tears fall her human face.

"Master!"

Moloch extends his hand and Ruby practically crawls to him. She takes his hand and kisses him with devotion. Moloch bends down, looking right into the eyes of the demon inside the human body.

After a long pause, where Moloch was trying to get the words out the brain of the human he possessed, he asks:

"What took you so long?"

Ruby feels a chill go down her spine. Moloch's voice sounded like a million voices and they all echoed around the wall, bouncing back to her.

"I'm sorry, Master."

"Sorry?"

Moloch's hand quickly moves to Ruby's neck and squeezes it tight. He lifts Ruby with easy, pulling her closer. He opens his mouth as black smoke comes out of Ruby and begins to pour into his mouth. Ruby's body decays in front of all the attendees. Just as quickly as it began, it ended. Ruby's body was nothing more than a shell of who she was before: a decaying corpse.

Moloch tosses the body aside and stares at Anne, who has yet to bow to her master.

"Anne" he greets.

The bald woman does a slight nod and nothing more.

"Is this yours?" Moloch asks point to himself as Cassie.

"My daughter, yes."

"The ultimate sacrifice." He replies in his millions of voices. "Lovely."

Anne does a small bow again.

"So..." Moloch adds. "What took you so long?"

Anne does not reply at first. She knew saying sorry was not an excuse, not to a demonic God, like Moloch.

"We needed the right one to receive you, Master."

"You certainly have." Moloch looks around to his attendees. "Now, shall we begin our ceremony? Who's doing the cooking tonight?"

Anne steps forward with more confidence.

"I am, Master." With a firm clap of her hands, the main doors open, and a group of a group of young women are brought in. They are extremely young, the legality of their age being put into question here, walking in completely naked, terrified, and bruised in all places. They are all tightened together by ropes, with their eyes closed by duct tape and their mouths as well.

Anne claps once more firmly and a group of people come and grab the young girls who begin to scream.

Around them the attendees begin to stand, they remove their robes revealing that they too are naked and begin walking around whispering again.

One of the girls, perhaps the youngest of them all, is held upside down in the middle of the room. Cassie hands over the knife to Anne and the Priestess walks to the young woman with confidence. As she approaches she can hear her faint cry and sobbing. Tears and snot running down the duct in a festival of messy display of human secretions. A large white bowl is brought and placed underneath the girl.

Anne holds out her knife with one hand for everyone to see and places her other hand on the young girls trembling stomach. The whispering comes to a stop. The entire room falls silent and the only noise is the low sobbing of the poor girls

facing their death.

"Give me your name."

In between sobs, Anne can make out the name Jane.

"Jane."

The young girl nods in accordance. The entire audience repeats her name. Repeat. Again. And again, in an eternal loop.

In a quick motion, Anne stabs the young woman right in the belly and pulls the knife slicing through meat and bone. A rain of blood begins to drop into the white bowl as the young woman slowly loses her life.

"Grab them"

Four people grab the other two girls and lay them next to each of the bowl.

"Your name," Anne asks again. The girls don't reply right away and Anne kicks one of them on the side. "Your name!"

From under the tape the words Hannah and Alex come out. Anne repeats the name out loud and whispering begins again.

Anne looks at Moloch who approves of everything she does. The demon occupying Cassie's body sits down in an empty chair and watches the ceremony with care. It was one thing to receive the blessings of such a sacrifice in the nothingness, it was another to see it and feel it first-hand. He could feel the power returning already.

As the two people old the young girls down, Anne puts the knife on her side and, with the freehand, dips into the bowl of warm blood. She begins to write on the stone floor in a language that was not English. After finishing the paragraph, she wipes her two fingers on the girl's forehead. Two other women step in, dip their fingers in the bowl and begin writing on the girls' body.

A few men walk in holding platers with glasses on it. With the help of a soup ladle, they begin to pour the content of the basin on the glasses.

Anne stands tall over the young girls with her hands out looking straight at Moloch sitting patiently. Next to her other two women hold knives pointing at the suffering young ladies beneath them.

At the same time, the men distributed the glasses of blood to all attendees. The glasses are full

Everyone is hungry. Let it begin.

"To our beloved Moloch whose arrival to Earth was long overdue we give ceremony. May this meal be the way for you to retrieve your powers and begin walking the Earth to receive your deserving throne. We salute you." At this moment, everyone takes a sip of their drink and Moloch closes his eyes in delight.

The two women plunge the knives on the girls bloody who wail in pain. A few seconds later they remove their bloody hearts. The two organs are placed in a silver platter and

held out to Moloch. The old demon, inside a young woman's body, smiles. He holds one of the hearts with a full hand, looking at it.

"It's so good to be back." He then takes a huge bite of the heart and begins chewing a mouth full.

* * *

**NOW**

Martha is very cautious whenever taking care of her patients. In all her years as a doctor she has seen all kinds of wounds in all kinds of people, so this a minor distraction for a day. The gash on Sam's forehead isn't that deep nor as serious as it appears, so it would heal easily. It has been a long time since

she had been this close to Sam, so much so she could tell the differences: his hair is a bit longer than usual, going down past his ears just like she likes it. It has been a while since he last shaved, having this mild shadow of a beard appearing. He scents of soap and his shampoo reminds her of vanilla and flowers - it was probably that fancy brand he keeps hiding from Dean. His clothes were the same as always, a black and white flannel, with a grey jean jacket and old jeans. He appears a bit skinnier, which probably indicates he isn't feeding himself properly, again.

Sam can't look at Martha, but he can smell her perfectly. She uses a red sweatshirt with a little bit of cleavage, through which Sam manages to get a quick glimpse. He desires to move and touch her so badly, but he understands Martha was very precise about her tasks. She needs silence and quiet. But God, he wants to touch her so bad!

A few seconds later, after pulling here and there, Martha is finished.

"There," Martha announces as soon as she's done. She takes a bit of gaze and puts on the wound. "All done."

"That didn't hurt at all," Sam concludes. He takes the small mirror Martha has in her medical bag and looks at his small cut.

"Thank you," Martha replies as she packs her things back in her medical bag. She then turns to Sam with a suspicious look in his face "So, you fell..."

"I did."

"Down the stairs?"

"Yeah...I was in a hurry, I believe"

"Sam, I've never even seen you trip, you're telling me you fell down the stairs."

"I did."

"You know, in the time we've known each other I've seen some pretty gruesome scars on you." Martha lets out a scoff then shakes her head. She looks at Sam's green eyes, knowing it was a lie and remembering all the other lies. "When will you stop with the lies?" She wonders as she packs everything on her medical bag. "This is not the first time I patch you up and yet, despite all the times I've helped you, you choose to lie."

"Martha..."

"I mean, you _fell down the stairs?_ You've had better excuses. I liked the one where a dog bit you on the leg but the bite mark was nothing like a dog I've ever seen or the one where you were working with the nail gun and managed to get nailed on your shoulder as if I had never seen a botched bullet removal before." Martha shrugs taking the small mirror away from Sam's hand.

"I mean if you think I'm an idiot..."

"You're being unfair."

"Unfair? You're lying, Sam."

"I _did_ fall and hit my head," Sam replies calmly. "I don't see a problem here."

Martha stops and takes a deep breath.

"You know what, you're right. I'm doing too much." Out of her bag, she takes out a small

bottle of pills and hands it out to Sam. "For the pain. If you feel dizzy or throw up, go to the hospital."

Martha puts the mirror back on the bag and closes it. She begins to walk away from Sam but feels his hand on her arm pulling her close. Without warning, Sam kisses Martha right on her lips. A kiss she had forgotten what it tastes like or how it feels. Sam was tender, gentle, soft. It was a passionate kiss, but also a kiss full of longing. Martha pulls him closer, kissing him and holding tight. Sam pushes Martha against the counter so she can feel all of him, as she had felt before.

The doctor feels herself melting away feeling Sam so close as his hands are in all the right places to make her sing the highest of keys. When they separate, Sam is still holding her close and their breaths are in sync.

"I've missed this," Sam mutters to himself. Martha holds Sam's face between her hands. "I'm about to make a mistake."

"So, make it." "Do you want to stay here tonight?"

Sam pushes against Martha again, holding tight against the counter and she gasps. He pulls the hair away from Martha's face, making her face him with clarity.

"I am not lying to you. But if you think I haven't spotted your lies as well..."

A cold wave showers over Martha putting out all the fires Sam had just lit up.

"What?"

"Where were you?" The youngest Winchester shows her a look of sorrow in his eyes, that Martha didn't expect. "I'm sorry, but you left for six months last year.

You left me nothing but a weird voice mail saying you were leaving for a few days. Six months, Martha. Then, you're back and you don't tell me, you don't

explain it to me and you're just back. Everything is back as it was before.

Just like that. How is that fair, for me? You're calling me a liar? Where were you? And who was that guy I saw you with?"

"What?" Martha pulls away from Sam, making some room for her to breathe. "What guy?"

"On the day you came back, I was just waiting for you out front, hoping to see you again and I saw a big truck arriving. The doors opened, then you come out, with a tall guy in a long coat."

"You were here?"

"Yes," Sam replies. "I was here waiting for something, anything an answer to where you'd gone. Do you know what that's like? Not having a clue. Nothing! Who was

he?"

"A friend?"

"Who?"

For everyone else, including the Winchesters, Martha is a doctor at the local hospital - and she is - but aside from that, she is also a doctor at UNIT - Unified Intelligence Taskforce, an organization whose task was to investigate and combat paranormal and extraterrestrial threats to the Earth. Of course, no one knew this, Martha worked hard to keep her work as discreet as possible. Martha even knew whom Sam was talking about, but at this moment she was busier trying to steer him away from his doubt.

"I couldn't tell you."

"Oh, let me guess, it's related to your work?"

"Yes, Sam!" Martha refutes. "I don't _hunt_ for a living! I have other things."

"What other things? You're a doctor! You can't just accuse me of lying and then not prove to me that you're not lying!"

"This is ridiculous..."

"See, there you go again."

"_Again_?"

"Yes, avoiding the subject! I asked you a question and you didn't reply!"

"Sam..."

"So, let's keep things clear between us, yes? You tell me where you went and who that guy was and I'll tell you anything you want to know. Open book!"

Martha stares at Sam for a moment, not knowing what to answer. Sam shakes his head in disappointment, understanding Martha's silence.

At that moment, Dean walks into the kitchen. The oldest Winchester trades looks between the two and shakes an empty bottle of beer.

"Finished it." He then looks at his younger brother "Can I talk to you for a few seconds?"

"Sure," Sam replies frustrated.

* * *

Dean taps Sam on the shoulder when they find each other in the hall.

"What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"You guys are _always_ arguing, man."

"Just..."

Sam shakes his head, biting his lip. He looks back at the kitchen for a few seconds but then decides to leave it alone. "What is it?"

"I spoke to Crowley. He's willing to help."

"What's the catch?"

"He will only speak the bunker. He says there are spies everywhere."

"We can't bring Crowley into the bunker, Dean."

Crowley appears right next to the boys with a sigh, making the two brothers jump.

"Why don't you trust me, Moose?"

"Not a matter of...you know what, you're right! I don't trust you. Not going to take you to a place where we keep a lot of important information for us just because you're

scared."

"Not a matter of being _scared_, Sam. It's a matter of security. What I know will get all of us killed if listened by the wrong set of ears. And, believe it or not, I rather deal with the devil I know - aka the two of you, than any other. So, take me to your humble abode and we'll talk."

Sam looks at his brother, who shrugs in reply.

"I'm surprised _you_ agree with this."

"Listen, I'm just as confused as you are, but I'm also curious. Cassie is possessed by something, souls are missing from heaven and hell, so somehow, I feel these things are

connected. We need to find why. If Crowley is a way to help..." Dean looks at the King of Hell who nods in assurance " Then, we'll put out the futon and have him over."

"I don't like it..."

"Neither do I, but we've done a lot more with a lot less."

Crowley leans over to Dean, pretending to whisper.

"I feel your brother is still a little bit salty about our endeavor when you were my best demon friend, Dean."

Dean looks at Crowley with fire in his eyes and Sam shakes his head in disbelief.

"I will stab you in the eye." Crowley shows the palm of his hands and shuts up, not losing the evil sparkle in his eyes. "Sam, we need to get our footing on this issue. We work with what we know."

After a few seconds, Sam concedes.

"I'll have my gun ready, then," Sam replies looking right at Crowley.

Crowley blinks at Sam and shows an evil smile.

"Always a tease."

"Don't test me."

Martha walks out of the kitchen to find Sam, Dean, and a strange man dressed in black standing in the middle of her hall. Her eyes dart from the brothers to the man she didn't even hear come into her house.

"Ermmm..." The young doctor looks at the brothers and then at the strange man dressed in the black. "Hello."

"Hello"

Crowley replies with a charming smile. He takes a step forward towards Martha, but Sam gets in the way.

"No," the youngest of the Winchesters whispers, vexed.

"I just want to say hello." Somehow, Crowley manages to skip away from Sam and come closer to Martha. He holds out his hand in a charming manner. "Crowley"

Martha holds out her hand and the demon takes it.

"Martha ."

Crowley takes Martha's hand to his lips and lays a soft kiss. Behind him, Sam and Dean roll their eyes into their heads.

"Lovely to meet you, Doctor."

Martha felt a slight pang in her chest when she heard the word Doctor but came back to it quickly.

"Thank you. It's always nice to see a fellow Brit!" Martha replies with a smile. Behind Crowley, both Sam and Dean are uneasy at Crowley's quick approach. "Say, are you a medical Doctor?"

"Yes. Yes, I am. I studied when I was back in England and now I'm working here."

"I've always admired your profession."

"Are you a Doctor as well?"

"No. Although, I do have plenty of knowledge of the human form and its weakness," Crowley replies with a hint of malevolence. "But, a fellow Brit in Yankee land.

How surprising. Choice or career opportunity?"

"A bit of both, to be honest."

"I see..." Crowley turns to the Winchester with a glimpse of malice in his eyes. "I believe Martha should take a look at our dear Cassie, no?"

Dean stares at Crowley with fire in his eyes. How did he know about Cassie?

Sam noted his brother's fist bawling up and the impulse to punch Crowley growing inside of him. Quickly, he stepped in.

"No," Sam replies calmly.

"Who is Cassie?" Martha wonders.

Crowley's smile grows bigger as the brothers look at each other for an answer.

"A friend of mine," Dean replies. "Ex-girlfriend. She had an accident a few days ago, we brought her to our place and she's there."

"Well, has she been to a hospital?"

Sam was about to answer when Crowley cut him off.

"No," Crowley interjects, holding Martha's hand with a surprised look. "I told them to call an ambulance but they refused. You see, she has a few bullet injuries, so they fear the police would get involved."

If Dean's eyes could speak or cast spells, Crowley would be dead in a heartbeat.

"Has she had any medical care?" Martha asks.

Crowley cuts the boys off again, coming close to Martha.

"No, nothing. Isn't that a risk? That's what I came here to tell them. Either take her to a hospital and face the music or have someone qualified and of trust to take a look at her."

"You're right, Crowley."

"Alright, alright..." Dean steps closer to Martha. "It's not that bad, she's fine."

"She hasn't woken up, Dean. That is rather dangerous, don't you think?" Crowley adds with a hint of evil. Dean looks at Crowley, wanting to punch him the face. "Can you imagine how you would feel if she dies? If you have any inch of feelings towards this young woman, you'd want to help, no?

"She's fine."

"_Is she_?" Crowley replies with a raised eyebrow. Crowley and Dean stare at each other with fire in each eye.

Crowley played the card for exactly what it was: a power move. Martha would serve as his buffer and shield, as the boys would be too busy dealing with explaining everything to the young woman and not busting his balls. Crowley knows how badly the boys deal with the truth, especially with people they care for. Bringing Martha into the gumbo, would protect him and leave enough wiggle room for him to work.

For Dean, having someone take good care of Cassie wasn't that bad of an idea. Cass affirmed that Cassie would be fine, but what if it wasn't true? His powers weren't as strong as it once were. It's always better to have a scientific point of view in this case. He wanted Cassie to be better. He takes one final look at this brother and shrugs.

"Fine." Dean lets out. "You can come with us and see how she's doing. Sam will bring you home afterward, okay?"

"No need. I can take my car."

"Don't be stubborn. We'll go in my car and then Sam brings you back. It's safer."

"What do you mean...?"

"Listen, can we get going?" Dean cuts aggressively. He has been away from Cassie for too long now and was starting to feel anxious. "We need to go."

Martha frowns a little. "I'll go get my medical bag."

"Great!"

Martha leaves the boys alone as she walks upstairs to her room. Dean looks at Crowley with a lack of amusement.

"How do you know about Cassie?"

"I know a lot."

"Let me ask again..." Dean pushes Crowley against the wall and puts Ruby's knife to his throat. "How do you know about Cassie?"

Crowley looks at the blade so close to his neck.

"As I said, there's a disturbance in the force and people talk." The demon looks at Dean with a sense of honesty. "I'm trying to help you"

"Help us? Since when do you care about us or anything that happens to us?"

"It's not about _you_, you idiot!" Crowley shoves Dean away. He then proceeds to rearrange his suit. "Heaven, Hell, demons, angels none of that will matter if we don't start working now and quickly. Your friend Cassie is no longer, what's inside of her will fucking kill us all in a heartbeat"

"What are you talking about?" Sam asks curiously.

Crowley looks at Dean.

"The folder I gave you. Do you have it?"

"Yes. Back at the bunker."

"It's connected. All of it." Crowley adds. As soon as he says this phrase he looks around carefully. "We'll talk when we get there. We can't risk falling into unwanted ears."

And, just like that, Crowley vanishes leaving the brothers with even fewer answers and clarity.

* * *

Martha opens her bedroom door to find a man sitting in her bed.

"Well, well, well...An unexpected visitor."

She closes the door behind her quietly.

"Quiet! They have no idea that you're here!"

"Really? Should I go downstairs and introduce myself?" The beautiful man stands up from the bed and shows his amazing smile.

"Jack, please."

Martha walks up to her closet and opens the door pulling out a medical bag.

Jack pulls the curtain away a few inches to see Dean get into the car.

"I believe this is the closest I've ever been to them. Aside from lurking at a distance and snapping all the pictures."

"Yes, you're they're the number one fan."

"Head of the Fan club. Get your facts."

Martha lets out a small giggle as Jack continued to look out the window.

"Which one of them yours again?"

"Will you stop?" Martha requests as she looks for more supplies on her drawers. "He saw you, you know?"

Jack lets out a fake gasp.

"He did?"

"Yes. When I came back after our training with the Brits. He saw you here and is very confused about it. I don't know what to tell him."

"The truth?"

"Debatable," Martha argues. "I called out his bluff and he called mine. He knows I'm hiding something, but doesn't know what. I can't tell him I know what he does for a living and I've been following him for months now. It's a Mexican standoff!"

Jack shakes his head.

"Can't you just sex him into oblivion?" Martha does not reply and Jack lets out a small giggle. He opens his jacket and pulls out a flask, drinking from it. Jack stays quiet for a few seconds, clears his throat, and then asks a question:

"I heard another voice downstairs. Who was it?"

"Crowley."

Jack stops mid-sip and looks at Martha.

"You know he's a demon, yes? The king of Hell"

"I know," Martha replies. "I was just as surprised as you. He was just there, you know? How do you know him?"

Jack takes another sip of his flask.

"Just heard about him"

Like so many other companies whose line of work become obsolete after a few years in the market, UNIT proposed the opening of a new branch within its institution. It was a revolutionary move. It was something never seen before and which would require the approval of the higher-ups. The proposal itself due to its controversy was very hush-hush, known only to a few people of the highest of branches. It was time for the UNIT for reinventing itself and find a new path. Tackle the menaces from the sky, but also the sides and also underground. Spearheaded by Jack Harkness, the secret branch was nominated UNIT - Black Folder and it would deal with all things supernatural, from ghosts to vampires, from wendigos to werewolves. The proposal made its way up the ranks and was presented in a secret meeting. On record, this branch was not approved, but in reality, it was approved with the majority of votes under the condition that it was completely covert and that all the agents involved would moonlight for it.

Martha was one of the firsts to join. She was Jack's right arm, accompanying him in some of the missions to dissolve vampire nests and other monsters who dared to become a menace to humans. Surprisingly, or not, most of the supernatural activities were based in the US, so it made complete sense that Martha would move the country. So, yes it was a career choice. The Doctor was gone somewhere around in the galaxy, the word in the streets has he even had a new face and new companions!

So, her connection to U.N.I.T is not what it was. It was an easy transition for alien affairs to supernatural affairs.

No point dwelling in the past, so Martha embraced this new chapter, alongside a small group of other. employees. With the help of an allied entity called, The British Men of Letters, they were introduced into all things supernatural. From vampires to werewolves, to wendingos and demon possession. Martha knew it all. The partnership with UNIT meant that The British Men of Letters would provide the knowledge and UNIT with the muscle. Meeting the Winchesters had been a work of fate, but not really.

She was at that bar the night the met Sam, but it wasn't by accident.

She had seen Sam before.

She hunted Sam down on purpose, but simply gained feels for him by accident.

However, this wasn't here nor there. The boys had something big in their hands. She knew it. She wanted in.

After checking all the contents of the medical bag, Martha returns to the closet and removes a small travel suitcase. With ease, she opens the suitcase, to find a black panel inside requiring identification. Martha presses her palm against the panel, lighting up with the words "identification verified" showing up. The panel splits into two showing a suitcase full of different types of guns and their respective bullets.

"So, Sam called your bluff, huh?"

"Yes."

"Were you nervous?"

"I know a time will come when the truth will come out, but hopefully he will understand."

"That you approached him for interest, but stayed for the sex?"

"I guess."

"We need them on our side, Martha." Jack warns."The Brits are out here busting our balls taking charge, we can't let it happen. The Winchesters are our best shot at taking them down and having full control of Black Folder."

"Got it." Martha sighs. "I got it."

"Where are you going?"

"They have a friend in need." Martha takes out her 9mm Glock making a quick check. "I think they are at the bunker."

"You're going into their bunker?"

"Crowley offered, so they were caught off guard. Unless they have someone there with them or they are not at the bunker at all, I think that's where we're going."

"I'm coming with you!"

"Are you mad?"

"Listen, they have stuff at that bunker that the Brits want. If we get them, we would get leverage. We can turn the tables!"

"For what?"

"_A coup d'état_!" Jack replies with excitement. Martha's eyes grow larger. "Yes, they have some knowledge, but from what I heard that bunker is a treasure of infinite source of all kinds of stuff supernatural related that the Brits have no idea. We get our hands on that, they're history and we won't have to rely on them for information."

Martha tucks her gun and ammunition in her medical bag.

"You need to relax, Jack."

"I'm serious!" Jack expresses vehemently. "We need to get in there!"

"I can't take you with me, Sam saw you already and I don't have the mental ability to create a storyline for you at the moment!"

"Martha..."

There's a quick knock on the door and both fall silent. Another quick knock.

"Martha is Sam."

Martha motions Jack to get inside her closet and she closes the door behind him. With a kick the travel suitcase slides under the bed and, before opening the door, Martha makes sure the medical bag is closed. After a few seconds, making sure everything is okay, Martha opens the door to find Sam staring at her.

"Dean's a bit impatient." He explains from the other side. He takes a glance into the room. "Were you talking to someone?"

"No. Why?"

"Thought I heard a man's voice coming up."

"Tv was on," Martha replies quickly. "Shall we?"

"Yeah."

Sam leads the way, making his way to the stairs as Martha takes one last look in the room. From the closet, Jack's head pops out and mouths 'call me' to which Martha gives a quick nod and then shuts the door.

* * *

_**THEN**_

Reuben walks into the bathroom on the main floor. He feels a tightening in his chest, a sense of guilt mixed with horror and pure fear. He feels the taste of blood in his mouth and feels the need to throw up. And so he does, right there on the sink. A mixture of pieces of food, with blood from the sacrifices presented to them.

The old man looks at the mirror in front of him and thinks of Cassie. _Cassie. Oh, poor Cassie. _

He's legs abandon him and he falls to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Yes, he wanted to see the God he had to learn since he was a child. Yes, he wanted to be his presence. Rejoice in his presence, drink from his infinite source, but the horror of it all. The fear he felt in his soul.

Reuben looks at his hands and they are shaking like jello.

_Cassie. My dearest, Cassie! _

He looks through his robe and finds his phone. He had managed to sneak it in on the inseam of his robe. With a quickness, he dials the number he knew so well.

A few rings and then she picked up.

_"Honey?"_

_"Hi, baby." _Reuben is greeted by his wife on the phone, the love of his life on the other side. She seems so happy and so jovial. He could almost see her sitting on her chair with her favorite book on her lap, too deep in the narrative to even realize the world around her_. "How's the trip going?"_

Reuben swallows hard and tries to transmit a steady voice to his lovely wife.

"Well. It's going well."

However, if there was a person who knew him, it was his wife of over 30 years. She knew him very well.

_"Reuben, I know when you're not well. What happened?"_

Reuben sat against the door of the bathroom. Outside, the ceremony continued with food being brought from the banquet, people drinking blood, and Moloch rejoicing in the powers and gifts he was receiving from his followers. He looks around to this bathroom stripped of any decoration, of an eerie simplistic design and feels the need to throw up again.

"I...I...saw something wrong happening."

From the other side, he could imagine his wife tensing up and closing her book. "Nothing...Nothing you know...life threatening or something...well, not exactly...let's just say...it wasn't good."

_"Did you do something?"_

Reuben remains silent.

"No."

_"Then, what?"_

Reuben falls silent again and bangs his head against the door.

"I know where Cassie is." He blurts out. "I found her, honey."

His wife lets out a sigh of relief. He could imagine her with her hand on her chest and becoming glad. She loved Cassie.

_"Oh my God, Reuben! That's amazing!_" She lets out. After a beat of silence, she wonders _"Is she...alive?"_

Reuben takes a strategic break.

"I want to hope so, yes. The thing I saw is related to that...I don't know if I can get to her..."

"_You do whatever you can and whatever you must, Reuben!_" His wife replied with a steady voice. _"She's practically our daughter!"_

"Honey..."

"_No, Reuben!_" His wife's voice trembles. "_I've been worried sick about her. It's been six months, Reuben. If you saw something, you do something! Call who you have to call and get her back. Bring her back."_

Reuben's eyes fall on the mirror above him.

"I might know-how."

"_Good. Then do it. I want her back with us. Put an end to this misery."_

Reuben looks at the mirror standing tall above him. With a hardship, he stands on his two feet and stares back at himself. He removes the mask that hides his eyes, looking deep into his eyes.

"I'm going to bring her back, honey."

"_Yes! Bring her back safe and sound_." The wife lets out gently. But, just as quickly, she realizes a flaw in her plan. "_How will you do that? Do you want me to call the police?"_

"Don't worry. I got it. Go to bed, it's getting late."

"_Oh. Erm. Okay. I love you_."

"I love you."

"_Reuben?_"

"Yeah?"

"_Please be safe._"

Reuben looks at himself in the mirror and nods.

"Of course."

Reuben hangs up his call and tosses his phone on the toilet. He returns his attention to the mirror.

"I'll bring you back, Cassie." He claims as he removes the knife from his robes. "Even if it costs me."

Without hesitation, he cuts the inside of his arm along the line, gasping at the pain he never knew before. With agility, before he could lose consciousness, he begins writing over his reflection in a language created way before the age of man. As he writes the spell, he focuses on Cassie and her image. On her strength. On her person. He wants her back.

As he writes he begins to feel dizzy. Some of the words are beginning to look wobbly, but he continues. He wrote all over the tall mirror, with blood dripping down his arm, his legs, and painting the floor red. He begins to whisper the words he wrote as he continues to write them on the white sink, on the marble counter, on the tiles, on the floor all over. He wanted that bathroom to be a beacon. He wanted Cassie back.

Not far, Anne, who quietly enjoys the ceremony in a corner begins to feel a tingly sensation on the tip of her fingers. She looks at her hands, opening and closing her palm. Something was off. It was as if her hand become numb. She knew the feeling well.

Closing in on the darkness, Reuben puts a hand on the mirror. Around him, words decorate the bathroom from top to bottom. He looks deep into his own eyes, who have now turned white and continues to repeat the words.

Anne stares at her hands. Something was happening. Someone was using The Power. Someone was using their sight to do something. Being the Priestess, she was the only one allowed to use the site during the ceremonies. Her eyes scan the crowd who are lavishing in all deadly sins, from gluttony to lust. She knew every member, even with their faces covered and one was missing.

Reuben's trance had taken him to another realm. To another part of himself, he hadn't reached in years. He was looking. Swimming in a deep pool of dark waves and losing himself. Then, he felt her. She was there somehow. Once he had made a connection. Once he had seen her and felt her, Reuben pulled her back. Quickly he returns to the present and opens his eyes. There she was on the other side of the mirror as if she was underwater: Cassie.

Reuben's hand dips inside the mirror, grabbing Cassie by the hand and beginning to her out of the darkness.

Anne felt a bang hit her chest so hard she fell on her knees. At the same time, Moloch releases the most gut-wrenching scream to ever be heard. The veins on his neck pop out and his eyes grow the size of marbles. He looks at Anne with pure rage in his dark eyes. When he speaks his voice is low.

"Who brought her back?"


	7. Chapter 7

New chapter. Thank you for your patience. I hope you all enjoy it.

PS: BMOL - British Men of Letters.

* * *

**07 - MOLOCH INTERRUPTED**

**NOW **

Dean lays in bed resting his eyes after a long day of answering questions. Sam and Martha were off researching more information. Crowley was gone and Cas as well. It was just him and he needed to get some sleep before attacking this entire situation, after all, he was himself a nocturnal animal.

He takes off his old jacket, his shoes, and his plaited shirt, leaving them on the floor. He would pick them up later.

With little grace, he falls onto the bed first on his stomach and then rolling over to face the ceiling.

It does not take long for him to welcome sleep as his body began to numb.

As his body begins to drift to sleep, there is a knock on the door. Ignoring it, hoping it was Sam trying to call on him, he continues to slide into the dream realm. He listens to the door open and then close, but his eyes will not do the same. Someone is in the room with him. Suddenly, there's a weight on the bed and then someone sitting on top of him.

"Dean."

When he opens his eyes, he sees Cassie sitting there.

"Cassie?"

There she was, looking as beautiful as ever. Her black curls falling down her shoulders, her dress which was once white and now was looking kind of dirty with one of the spaghetti straps fallen to the side. Her face with no makeup, her lips inviting. She leans over and places a kiss on his lips. The kiss is long, sensual and a tease, sending Dean all kinds of information down his body. With care, he pushes away, looking deep into her eyes. A wise man would tell Cassie to go, as it was not safe, but Dean was not wise. At this moment he was being held hostage by this uncontrollable desire and need. So, they kiss again with passion. Cassie's breath against him makes his heart pump. As the kissing increases in intensity, so does his desire.

Cassie bites his lower lip and Dean lets out a pleasurable gasp. He puts his hands on the side of her face, looking deep into her brown eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for you."

"We can't."

"We can't?"

"No."

Cassie sits up straight. Her hands slide down, touching Dean's strong arms and his chest. He closes his eyes as he feels Cassie adjusting herself and sitting right on top of him. The perfect position. Dean can feel her warmth and her invitation just as clearly. He replies by touching Cassie's thighs, her round and perky like a peach behind and coming up to her hair. He loves her hair full of curls and pulling it during sex. Cassie pulls her head back allowing the Winchester to practice this familiar move on her.

"We need to be away from each other," Dean adds realizing that Cassie's dress is practically see-through. He can see the contour of her body, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. His mouth was watering with desire.

"Who said?"

"Castiel."

Cassie looks down on Dean with her eyes full of wanting.

"Send me away then."

"I know you hate when I tell you what to do."

Cassie approaches Deans lips and whispers:

"If you don't' want me, send me away." She lays a small kiss on his lips. "I'll go. I promise."

Dean allows Cassie to bite his lips and play with his tongue.

Then, the young woman sits up straight and slowly pulls off her dirty dress. Dean immediately recognizes every inch of a body he knew so well. Her chocolate skin, her firm breasts, her smooth stomach.

"You drive me crazy; you know that?" Dean replies looking at that eatable body as he runs his hands through each inch of Cassie's.

In a swift move, they trade places. Dean pulls his arm around Cassie's waist, pulling her to be under him. Dean loves being on top of Cassie. Of course, he enjoys being dominated by women as well, especially when he is feeling particularly lazy, but with Cassie, it was different. Seeing her on top of him was a sight for sore eyes and would bring back any fire, but Dean enjoys controlling the rhythm, the speed. By being on top he can respond to her body, her moans. He loves to see her reaction, her response whenever he goes harder or slower. Also, he knows that deep down, despite being very controlling and bossy outside, when it comes to sex, Cassie loves to be dominated, being pushed, and pulled here and there.

Dean places his hand around her throat and squeezes gently. Cassie closes her eyes in a moment of satisfaction.

"Say you want me," Dean commands in her ear in a low voice.

"I'm not saying it," Cassie replies in a whisper with a look of defiance in her eyes "I'm not giving you the satisfaction."

"I can make you say, Cassie. You know I can."

Dean grinds against Cassie, making her sigh even harder with desire. His hands are all over her body squeezing and pulling in all her right places. He then proceeds to take his shirt off, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans showing his black boxers. He stands on his knees looking at Cassie beneath him, laying naked as he used to see her. He kisses Cassie with passion, feeling her vibrate under him as his body meets hers again. He kisses her neck, recognizing her amazing scent, then bites it hard as Cassie lets out a small scream of pleasure. He takes it down kissing her jawline, her collarbone, the middle of the chest, and then losing his mouth on her perfect breasts.

Cassie gasps in pleasure, grabbing Dean's hair and pulling. Quickly, he takes her two hands and pins them on the sides of her head. Cassie's breathing fast with her lips apart in a look that screams pleasure. She wraps her legs around Dean, making her intentions very clear. Slowly, Dean moves his hips touching Cassie just on the stop, making her moan.

"Say it," Dean demands once more looking deep into her brown eyes. Cassie continues to moan but bites her lips instead. Dean pulls down his jeans and boxers, meeting Cassie's skin. He was ready, she was warm and inviting. Dean kisses her neck, her jawline, then her lips with an intensity he did not know he had. He wanted Cassie so bad, he just wanted to melt onto her. He continues to move against Cassie as her moans become unbearable. He grunts as he gives a thrust with such a force that the bed bangs slightly against the wall. He pulls her hair again, leaving her neck exposed for him to kiss and bite. However, instead of biting the young woman, he just leaves her there on the brink of desire. He could see her heart beating against her chest and feel her breathing hard.

"Cassie," He says her name in a low tone against her ear and she moans louder. He continues to tease her by gently touching her body and whispering her name into her ear.

He puts his hands around her neck and squeezes it gently, whispering all the things he wants to do to her into her ear.

"I want you," Cassie replies digging her nails into Dean's back. Her empty hand slides down Dean's stomach reaching what she was looking for, pulling him into her. They both moan in pleasure as they began a dance of passion and intensity.

While Dean thrusts into Cassie, the young Winchester feels waves of pleasure come into him after months of celibacy. The feeling that Dean was having was indescribable. So much pleasure he could not even express it, only to feel it and continuing to adore Cassie. The bed was screeching, their moans getting louder and louder, teeth

biting into the skin, nails digging on backs, hair pulling, and neck squeezing.

Cassie pulls Dean closer, grabbing him by the hair and letting him work her the way the wants.

They were both wet with sweat, drunk by pleasure and desire, high of lust.

Suddenly, Cassie's loud moans turn into laughter. Maniacal laugher. The type of laughter a crazy person let us out. Dean looks at her confused but does not stop. When he looks at Cassie her eyes are as dark as night and her face is slightly different. He

stops.

"Aw Dean." She replies kissing him on the lips, pulling him closer. "Don't stop. Don't stop."

"Your eyes. They're black."

"So?" Cassie replies kissing him again, pulling him closer. "Don't stop now. Please, don't."

Dean lets out a smirk, completely ignoring the red flag. He loves it when Cassie says please. When she says please, it's because it is really good, and he simply couldn't stop. Dean continues to thrust not understanding what he was seeing but guided by the ecstasy of the moment.

Just as he was about to reach his peak...

* * *

"Dean!" Sam bangs on the roof of the car, waking up his older brother.

At first, the oldest of the Winchester does not recognize his surroundings feeling confused and afraid, but quickly he realizes they were parked at a gas station, a few miles away from Martha's house. They stopped to put some gas in the car and to buy some supplies for the bunker. Martha is inside the convenience store talking to her mother on the phone and Sam had just returned with two bags filled with supplies "You okay?"

Dean looks around, finding himself behind the wheel of Baby. He notices that his heart his racing, there is a small layer of sweat in his forehead and that he was still feeling a bit excited.

"Just had the weirdest dream."

"Yeah, you were saying Cassie's name," Sam adds placing the supplies inside the car. "Guess you dozed off."

"Guess so." Dean opens the car door, walking out. "I'm headed to the bathroom. Need some cold water."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just fill her up, okay?"

"Sure."

Dean makes his way to the bathroom in the back of the gas station. As his making his way passing by the pumps, he sees a Martha inside the gas convenience store talking on the phone. She waves as he sees him and Dean waves back. Dean walks into the bathroom, choosing one of the stalls and sitting on the toilet. The dream felt so real. He could taste Cassie's lips, smell her, and feel her touch. He looks at the palm of his hands, still feeling her warm skin. He was losing his mind.

When he closes his eyes, he can see Cassie underneath him screaming his names and pulling him closer. Dean touches his head, where he could still feel Cassie's touch.

Was it a dream?

It had to be a dream.

The Winchester stands up and shakes it off. He opens the stall door to find Crowley on the other side.

"You smell like shame."

"You're annoying me, Crowley."

"Had a bad dream?"

"Shouldn't you be waiting by the car or something? Or better yet, can't you come and go as you please? Why don't you meet us there? Save me the trouble of having to see your face more than I have too."

Dean frowns as he walks past Crowley to the bathroom sink, turning the tap on. He waters his face and neck, slowly returning to reality and lowering his sense of anxiety.

"I've never seen you this riled up, Dean." Dean looks at Crowley from his reflection. The demon King at a smirk in his lips, as if he knew a secret. "You should consider taking a bubble bath when we arrive at the bunker."

Dean turns to respond to the demon but, as one would expect, Crowley had already vanished. Dean leans against the sink taking a deep breath. He felt all kinds of emotions at that moment: he was aroused, he was excited, confused, and scared at the same time. That dream was too vivid. Too real. He smelled things, touched skin, and felt emotions. He could still feel the soreness from where Cassie had pulled his hair and the taste of her lips.

"I'm going crazy." He confesses to himself. "I'm going completely nuts."

Inside the gas station store, Martha is sitting at the counter talking on the phone. Well, not exactly. For anyone looking she seems to be on the phone when she is talking to the tall man standing next to her.

"I can't believe you followed us," Martha replies. Next to her captain Jack Harkness takes a sip of his coffee and shows a smirk. He keeps looking forward to the exhibit of liquor bottles on the shelves.

"I need to make sure you're okay."

"I told you I was going to call you."

"That is not enough for me, Nightingale. I worry."

"You need to relax, Jack."

"I am relaxed, my dearest. I just like to accompany these opportunities up close."

"Yeah, well right now, you sound desperate."

"I like the word 'curious'"

"You like a lot of things."

Martha looks over her shoulder, watching Sam leave the store with supplies. He does not even look back at her. Martha watches closely as Sam makes his way to the car, where Dean is sleeping profusely. Her heart tightens at the sight of him. Why can't she go back to that perfect moment when they were both kissing and enjoying one another?

Martha remembers when she met Sam. It was not by accident. No. Black Folder had been following the Winchester for quite some time now. The British Men of Letters hated their methods and hated even more than the future of The Men of Letters were in the hands of such crass creatures. Jack loved the fact that the BMOL hated the

American Charter and saw in the Winchesters a way of gaining autonomy from the British grip. After hearing so much about them, Martha - with the help of Jack - located the Winchesters. Sam and Dean had been working a case for almost a week now, staying just outside the city of Dallas. When Martha saw Sam alone at that bar, she decided to make a move. A quick toss of the hair, lip gloss, and

a bit of cleavage was enough to get his attention. She sat next to Sam, bumping slightly into him. She apologized; he forgave. Then, Martha turned to Sam.

"Quick laugh at my joke," Martha demanded just as this random guy passed right next to her. Sam laughed, Martha did too and touched his arm adding "Oh my, you're so funny!"

As the man walked by, Martha and Sam locked eyes. She apologized once more for using him and he forgave.

"This guy, I used to date. Ghosted me out of nowhere, saw him talking to a friend of mine a few days later. He had the nerve to text me again saying 'he missed me." Do you believe that?"

"The nerve on him," Sam replied with a gentle smile. "Hope I helped."

"You did. He does not need to know that this is all a scam. I want him to see that I don't care about him."

"Right," Sam replied again. Martha saw a quick twinkle in his eye. "May I get you a beer?"

"Sure."

The more they talked, the more engaged in one another they were. Sam was funny, charming, and very attractive. Martha was responsive, beautiful, and engaging. At some point, the

bar was full of people and they could barely listen to one another. So, they picked up their third beer and took a stroll downtown. Martha presented herself as a doctor, passing through the state on her way to a medical conference. Sam told, he was on a road trip with his brother, something they would do every year, and Dallas was a mandatory stop for rest on their journey. They both lied.

Of course, that night nothing happened, aside from some kissing in a dark alleyway, parallel to a busy street downtown. Martha claimed it was late and she had an early meeting in the morning with some pharmaceutical reps. Sam argued his brother would be probably wondering where he was. They exchanged phone numbers, more kisses, and hugs, leaving each other with the promise to text the following day.

They stop in front of Martha's hotel for the night. Sam pulls Martha to an alley on the side of the hotel, away from curious onlookers, kissing her with care. Martha feels something bloom inside of her.

"Screw the rules." Martha declares when they are done. "I like you and I'm going to text you tomorrow."

"Shouldn't I do that?" Sam wondered, kissing her neck, and smelling her perfume. "I thought the guy was supposed to text first."

"I don't care." Martha feels herself melt as Sam leaves one kiss on her neck. "I've never done this."

Sam looks down at Martha with a curious look.

"Kiss someone?"

"Kiss someone I just met."

"I believe the three beers we had helped to clear our inhibitions."

"That it did." Martha runs her hand through Sam's hair "Doesn't that make me an easy woman?"

"It makes you human."

A few minutes following they walk away. On the following day, Martha was picking up her phone when a

text from Sam arrived first. It read:

"I couldn't let you text me first. So, good morning."

She smiled and texted back.

Martha is pulled back to reality by Jack putting down his cup on the counter.

"The thing we need to know is why do they need Crowley. Is there something happening?"

"I wouldn't know."

"I mean, he's a demon. Why would they work with him?"

"What do you know about him?"

Jack takes a sip of his cup before answering.

"That he's a demon, that's it."

"Have you ever seen him?"

"No. Just from afar. You know, the BMOL has entire files on what the Winchesters have been doing and Crowley shows up numerous times."

"Seem kind of obsessive of them."

"The American charter is important. The amount of information they have...it's unbelievable."

"Information on what?"

"On the supernatural. All of it." Jack drinks again from his cup. "It's a gold mine. We take that and BMOL to have no option but to bow before me and take a fucking hike. I'm tired of being bossed around by a little girl who old enough to be my daughter. I want the upper hand and having the American charter, which is now run by the Winchesters, is the best move."

"Yeah, well...I still don't know what my role in this is."

"Just...Open doors for me."

"I'm lying to Sam! He has no idea this is all part of your evil plan to get a hand on whatever it is." Martha watches as Dean walks away from the car. "I don't like lying to him."

"No one likes lying. We do it because we have it. The Doctor would approve!"

"Don't talk about him." Martha waves as Dean walks by the window of the convenience store. She then looks back at Sam who is putting gas in the car. "I'm a terrible person."

"No, you're not."

"When Sam finds out, he's going to be..." Martha sighs. She puts away her phone, then stands from the chair. Before leaving, she turns to Jack with a stern warning

"Don't follow me. I'll call you."

"I want to see where the bunker is."

"Will you relax?" Martha cuts in abruptly. "You're getting worse with age, you know that?"

She walks out of the convenience store walking towards Sam. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up showing his arms, but also redefining his biceps. Martha approaches him, but before coming into his line of sight, she lets down her hair making it come out down her shoulders like black velvet and takes advantage of the afternoon sun on her skin.

Martha walks by Sam catching his attention. She is wearing black jeans, with a black tank top and a red opened blouse. As she walks around the car her hair blows in the wind and the skin glistens under the afternoon sun. He takes a moment to appreciate every curve on her body as Martha walks by him. Before entering the car, she stops and looks at Sam.

"Is your brother okay?" She asks, catching Sam off guard. "He seemed a bit shook when I saw him."

"Bad dream. Dean doesn't sleep much."

"I see," They stare at one another wanting to say a lot of things, but not saying a word. Martha sees Dean making his way to the car and proceeds to sit in the backseat.

Dean approaches just as Sam is pulling the gas hose out of the car.

"Feeling better?" Sam asks his brother.

"Yeah. Just needed some water." Dean replies, opening the car door. "Get in."

"What about

Crowley?"

"He'll meet us here."

The car ride to the bunker was uneventful, with low music playing to break the silence. Now and then Sam and Martha would trade eye contact, wanting to do so much more than just look at one another. While Dean, well...Dean was still thinking about the most real dream he had ever had.

* * *

In the backseat, Martha remembers the first time she met Dean. She had been talking to Sam for months now, reaching almost a year. The chemistry was evident! They enjoyed each other's companionship. Sam was funny, Martha was quirky and smart. Sam

knew just when to be sexy in his flirtation and Martha could respond just the same way. Over the months they had met briefly, trading kisses, but nothing over and above. Martha was seeding with desire, Sam wanted her so bad, but neither would dare to make a decisive move. What if it was not good? What if they were not as compatible in bed as they were out of it? What if they do it and realize they were better as best friends?

One-night Martha was at home working. They had been secretly working with the British Men of Letters to learn more about these creatures of the night and, she was reading a fascinating article about the vampires of History. One would not believe the number of iconic figures who were bloodsuckers.

Suddenly, her doorbell rings. Martha looks at the clock surprised, it was way over midnight, and she had been caught reading endlessly again. Martha does a quick headcount of who could be: Jack was somewhere in London with the BMOL, they had just spoken. Her

mother was sleeping at these hours, so were her brother and sister, all the way in England. The Doctor would not ring a bell. Mickey was not speaking to her.

So, who could it be?

With her defense up, Martha opens her first drawer to pick up on her gun. Carefully, she makes her way to the door, gun in hand. As she reaches the door the bell rings again and there is a knock.

"Martha? Open up, its Sam!"

Martha frowns confused. Sam? What was he doing here? And how did he know where she lived?

Martha puts the gun behind her back and opens her door. What she saw was shocking. Sam was carrying another man who seemed to be fainting. His face was worryingly pale, and he could barely stand.

"Sam?" As Martha looked at the two, she realizes that both men are covered in blood. Sam has cuts on his face, head, and arm, but the other man was in a more dangerous as he was bleeding profusely from a wound in his left leg. "Oh my God!

What happened?"

"We need your help!" Sam replied in haste. "This is my brother, Dean. He is in bad shape. Please, we got nowhere else to go. I'm sorry."

"Don't be silly." Martha opened the door and Sam practically dragged Dean inside. "Bathroom. Last door on your right."

Sam dragged Dean inside Martha's house leaving blood traces all over the wooden floor. Martha takes one look outside to see if any nosy neighbors had their eyes glued to her house, but luckily the lights were all out. Quickly, she closed the door and locked it. Martha took her gun from behind her back, leaving it on the standby

the door. When she arrived at the bathroom, Sam had sat Dean down on the toilet and grabbed a towel putting some cold water on his face.

"What happened?"

Martha gaped looking at Dean whose complexion had grown paler and paler.

"We were attacked..." Sam continued, cleaning his brother's face. "A bear. It came out of nowhere. Dean did not see it. It got his leg."

Martha knelt and tore Dean's jeans apart. His leg showed three long gashed alongside his thigh. They were deep, bleeding profusely to the point where they were dripping on the marble white floor. One thing Martha was sure, no bear did those markings.

"Sam, this is serious."

"I know,"

Sam replied looking at Martha. "That's why I came to you."

Martha touched Dean's forehead feeling him a bit warmer than regular standards.

"Your brother has a fever. You need to get to the hospital."

"We can't."

"It's not a discussion, Sam. Dean can lose his leg if he doesn't get surgery, there's only so much I can do here."

Sam took Martha's hand.

"Do what you can. We can't go to the hospital"

"Why not?"

Sam took a big gulp; trading looks between his unconscious brother and his crush.

"We are wanted by the police." Martha's eyes grow bigger, not surprised because she knew, but because Sam was honest about it with her. "I can't explain to you right now, but I will. Please, help us."

Martha looked at Dean whose lips had begun to quiver slightly. She then made a decision that would intertwine her life with the Winchester's forever.

"Go upstairs, inside my closet, there's a big medical bag. Bring it down."

Sam runs out of the bathroom and bolts upstairs. Meanwhile, Martha went into her office and picked up her cellphone. Quickly, she sent a message to Jack informing him of the Winchester's urgent visit. As she notices Sam coming back down, she bolted back the bathroom to find Dean awake and looking around.

The oldest Winchester looked pale, frail, with dry lips and dark circles under his eyes. He had a coat of sweat on his forehead and a large sweat stain around the neck and under his arm, but his lips and his hands were quivering slightly. A clear sign of fever.

"What happened?" He asked Martha. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Martha. I'm a friend of Sam's." She replied with confidence.

At the same time, Sam returned with a big medicine bag.

"You're awake." The young brother quickly approaches Dean, kneeling next to him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Sam." Dean replied letting out a heavy sigh." We got that evil son of a bitch, it's what matters."

Dean contorts in pain over his leg.

"I guess it got you first,"

"Yeah, but I got it better because it didn't live to tell the tale."

"You really should go to a hospital." Martha interrupted looking at Dean's leg.

"That doesn't look good and there's only so much I can do here at

home."

"Martha is it?" Dean wondered. To which Martha nodded. "I thought you doctors had to save people no matter what. Don't you have an oath or something?"

"Yes, we do."

"Well, let's just say that if I lose my leg I'm going to be pissed," Dean appended looking at Martha. The young doctor could see the young man pleading with his eyes, despite the smirk on his lips.

"Okay. Sam, can you get me two chairs from my office, please. Next door. " As Sam walked out to get the chairs, Dean and Martha were left alone for a few minutes.

"I'm going to have to rip your pants."

Martha rips Dean's jeans even more to a point where he only had one leg covered.

"So, you're Sam's sweetheart. You're the reason he keeps his phone under the pillow. "

"No idea he did that." Martha disinfected her hands and then put some white gloves one.

"I'm going to have to clean up this wound, okay?"

"He does. Y'all text a lot." Dean replied with his eyes getting sleepy, ignoring Martha's explanation. "Like a lot, a lot."

Sam returned with two hairs.

"Is this okay?"

"It's fine. Help

me with his leg," Together they lift Dean's wounded leg, despite his cries of pain, and placed his foot on the chair. While Martha took the other one and sat next to Dean. She then opened the medical bag and took out a bottle of pills. "Take these."

"What are these?" Martha hands Dean a glass of water.

"It helps you with the fever. If it doesn't come down in the next hour, I'm taking you to the hospital. Don't argue with me. If you don't, you'll lose your leg. Okay?"

Dean nodded as he took the pill. Martha looked at Sam who replied positively as well.

As Martha began to take care of Dean's wound, Sam's phone rang and he leaves to pick it up, leaving Dean and Martha alone for a few moments. With care and attention, Martha cleaned Dean's wound against his flinching and cursing. Next, she began to sow his wound shut, beginning with small cuts before focusing on the biggest one.

Martha was so focused on taking care of Dean, she didn't even notice when another man walked in.

"Dean," Martha looked up to find a man in a brown trench coat and blue eyes. "You're okay."

"Castiel," Dean greeted. He took a glance at Martha. "This is Sam's friend, Doctor Martha Jones, she's helping us today."

"Doctor," Castiel greeted with a little head bow. Martha replied with a quick smile.

"You know I can cure you, right? The works of a doctor are no match for mine. "

Martha raised an eyebrow and Dean lets out a smirk.

"I prefer the traditional ways, Castiel. Besides, Doctor Jones here is doing a fine job."

"I can help-"

"Sometimes, Castiel, it's always better to end up with a scar for us to learn a lesson," Dean added in a very clear way for Castiel but leaving Martha confused. "The Doctor is helping me just fine."

Castiel approached Dean, touching his forehead.

"You have a slight fever." Castiel declared.

"I do. It's rather annoying, but Martha gave me some antibiotics to help lower it." Dean looks at Cas with a clear message in his eyes. "I hate having a fever. If there was a quicker way to get rid of it."

Castiel touches Dean's arm. Quickly the color in the young Winchester began returning to his face and Dean's lip stopped quivering.

"You'll be fine," Castiel replied with a quick smile. He then turns to Sam, "Mind explaining what happened?"

"Sure," Sam replied. Quietly he pulled Castiel out of the bathroom and into the hall where they were speaking in a low voice.

Martha curiously touches Dean's forehead noticing his fever is gone and the color was returning to his face.

"Your fever is gone."

"I guess it is."

After taking care of Dean's wound, it was left for Sam and Martha to clean. She had given Dean a bed in an empty room she had in the back of the house, with an old couch and some pillows. The young man was now deeply asleep and snoring loudly. Castiel had left to park the car in the back of the house at Martha's request. So, the pair had a few moments to themselves. They met at the bottom of the stairs after Sam had left his brother to snore is way into dreamland and Martha came down after

storing her medical bag.

"Thank you for saving my brother."

"No problem."

They both look at each other's eyes at the bottom of the stairs. Sam was about to speak when Castiel enters the house and takes an interest in the gun that is on the stand next to the entry door.

"Whose gun is this?" He asks picking it up.

Martha quickly walked up the young angel and took the gun away from him.

"Mine." She replied with haste. "For protection. I live alone."

"That is a mighty gun for someone who simply wants protection."

"Go hard or go home, right?"

"I don't understand."

"Cas..." Sam walked in between the two. "It's fine. You can go now."

"I'll go check on Dean."

The angel walked away from the couple leaving them alone once more.

"Sorry. Castiel is...unique"

"I see."

"He has a point though, that's an amazing piece for someone who wants to protect their house."

Martha shrugged looking at the gun in her hand. A beautiful 9mm silver gun she had since her first day in UNIT.

"I dress to impress, I guess."

They share a look full of desire and want. Martha breaks contact by walking to her office. She puts her gun away in the same drawer she took it from. A quick look at her phone and she noticed that Jacked had called about 20 times, left five voicemails, and about a never-ending thread of text messages.

Oh my God, he's worse than a child!

Martha began writing a text demanding that Jack 'cool his jets' for a few seconds.

"Martha," Sam called, catching the doctor off guard. "How long have we known each other?

"Little over a year now, I believe," Martha replied, putting her phone away, face down.

"I see," Sam walks in the office, closing the door behind him and standing between Martha and her way out. "In my line of work we learn to value things before they are gone. Life is short. One minute you're here and the next you're not."

"That's rather grim."

"It is, but it also helps us get to the point of things." Sam adds "Do you like me?"

"I do. Do you like me?"

"I do," Sam replies. "Very much."

Martha notices her heart is pounding against her chest. Sam took a few steps coming towards her direction. He touches Martha's hair putting it away from her face and caresses her bare shoulders.

"You're bleeding," Martha added touching Sam's arm. His plaid green and black shirt showed a dark spot right on his bicep.

"It's a ricochet. From a bullet."

"A bullet?"

Sam nodded again.

Martha was about to ask him a question, but Sam cut her off by giving her a long and passionate kiss. Martha felt herself get lost in his arms and allowed herself to melt into Sam's embrace. With all care, he guided Marta towards her couch, letting her down easy and putting his body against her. They could feel each other get hot, a growth in desire, and the need for one another. Without words, Sam took out Martha's tank top, leaving her with just her bra. Martha pulled Sam's shirt down his arms, then his t-shirt over his head finally seeing his muscled body. She looked at him surprised. Sam looked skinny and frail all dressed up, but without his clothes, his muscles were visible and made her melt.

Martha ran her hands through Sam's arms, then his chest and down his stomach. He reached the buttons of jeans and began undoing them one by one. Then, she put her hands inside his jeans and was even more surprised. Sam was more than ready.

Sam showed her a mischievous smile knowing exactly why Martha was surprised - lowkey it made him very proud to see her reaction. He continued to kiss her with desire and before their brains could process what the bodies were doing, they found themselves tangled in a web of desire and love. Their bodies working in sync, responding to one another's needs. Sam was on top, then Martha was. The couch wasn't big enough for all they wanted, so the floor is where they met again. Against a fluffy Ikea rug, they exploded in pleasure, not caring for anyone who could listen.

After minutes of silence, with only just their breathes dictating the rhythm, they would look at one another and began laughing.

"That..."

Martha began,

"I know-"

Sam added with a big smile on his face.

"A year."

"A whole damn year."

Martha looks at Sam and winks.

"Worth it."

"Oh...you thought this was over?"

"What?"

Sam rolls over and puts himself on top of Martha.

"That was round one. Just to blow off steam." Sam kisses Martha on the lips. "You ain't seen nothing yet."

* * *

The Impala wobbles violently as Dean drives over a puddle of mud that was deeper than he thought.

"Sorry," Dean adds getting the car back in track in the muddy road.

Martha who got shook back to reality, just now realizes she's in a car driving on a dirt road deep into the woods.

"Where are we going?"

"To our home," Dean replies. "Or better yet, the closest we've ever come to a real home."

"In the middle of the woods?"

"Yes." Dean reaffirms. "No one can bother us here."

The car wobbles a few more times and Dean curses under his breath. It had rained the day before, so there were puddles all over the road and some he could avoid, others not really.

Sooner rather than later, Dean parks the car in front of a red metal door. He gets out of the car and walks towards the door opening it. He then proceeds to squat down and scratching the floor.

"You guys live in a bunker?" Martha wonders. Sam turns to face her.

"This was an inheritance from our grandfather."

"So, your grandfather was a doomsday person?"

Sam lets out a little scoff.

"This was the grounds for the Men of Letters, an organization that was known for being scholars of...well, of the supernatural."

"The supernatural?"

"Yes." Sam reiterates. "You know, ghosts and stuff."

"'Ghosts and stuff'"?

"Yes."

Martha frowns looking at Dean who was now scratching on the sides of the doors to the bunker

"What's he doing?"

"Well, this place is warded against certain types of people who want what's inside. There are several books, weapons, pictures...all things regarding the supernatural which are very rare. Some only have one copy and it's down there."

"So, it's like a library."

"Yes. The Men of Letters were a kind of...well, for lack of a better word, a group of investigators with an amazing organization system."

"I see," Martha replies. "How important are the things inside?"

"Very." Sam nods. "Some people would kill to have a peek inside. We have valuable information there. Of course, not everything is in there, but some things are."

"And you live here?"

"Yes," Sam replies looking at Dean who had left the door wide open for them to come on in.

"It has everything, bedrooms, a big kitchen, bathrooms, several other

rooms with books in it. We even have a garage! It's the closest we've had to home since our mother died when we were kids."

Martha looks at Sam who shows a small hint of sadness in his eyes.

"You never told me that."

"That my mother died?"

"No, that she died when you were kids."

"Yeah..." Sam shows a smile, but his eyes keep portraying sadness. " Our house burned down. Dean carried me out. She did not make it. Our father wasn't the same since."

Martha touches Sam's hand, showing she was with him in his pain. Sam plants a small kiss on her hand and looks at her with his eyes glowing in a shade of green.

There is a loud bang outside which makes them both jump. When they turn to the side, Crowley is standing there with a smile.

"Sorry to interrupt, but shouldn't we be going in"?

"When did he get here?" Martha wonders with a surprising look.

Sam does not reply, instead, he gets out of the car and stares at Crowley.

"The wardings are down, you can go in."

"Much obliged."

Crowley takes a small bow, then proceed to follow Dean's steps going inside the bunker. Martha gets out of the car watching Crowley go inside.

"Your friend is weird."

Sam shows her a crooked smile.

"Come on, it's getting late."

* * *

From where he was standing Castiel could hear the door rattle while being unlocked. He takes one final look at Cassie, seeing she remains in the same position since Dean had left with Sam. He walks out of the room, closing the door behind him and locking it. He puts the key in his jacket and proceeds to walk the long hall to the map room.

When he gets there, he finds Dean taking off his jacket and putting the car keys on the table. The oldest Winchester sits heavily on a chair with his eyes closed.

Castiel stops to look at his best friend and tilts his head.

"Why do you look rattled?"

"Because I am," Dean replies with a dry tone. He takes a quick look at the door to see that Sam and Martha were still outside. "I had a dream about Cassie."

"A bad dream?"

"Yes. No. Well..."

Dean sighs and closes his eyes again.

"Which one is it?"

"We were having sex. Doing things, we used to do when we were together."

"Sex dreams are a normal occurrence amongst humans. You have just seen Cassie after a long time apart, it is normal for your brain to return to memories of you two together."

"No, Cass it wasn't like that. It was different." Dean swallows hard and

palms his face. "It was real. It felt real. I could smell her, touch her,

see her. That's not the worst part."

"What is?"

"Her eyes were black and her face was weird," Dean adds. "I didn't stop though. I kept going harder and harder. It turned me on, I guess. "

Castiel looks back at the hallway from which he had come earlier. When he faces Dean, he has a stern look in his face of genuine concern.

"Her influence is growing stronger on you. You should steer away from her."

"I'm fine."

"Having a filthy sex dream is not fine!" Crowley adds, showing up underneath the stares. The demon king takes one quick look around and smiles "Love what you've done with the place."

"Crowley."

With a smooth movement of his wrist, Castiel produces an angel blade and is ready to attack. Quickly, Dean intervenes and stops the angel.

"Hold your horses, he wants to help."

"And you trust him?" Castiel asks angrily. "He's Crowley."

"I know," Dean replies. From above come the sounds of steps approaching as Martha and Sam enter the bunker. "Put your knife down, we have a guest."

"Who?"

Castiel looks up to see Martha walking down the stairs behind Sam. With ease, he puts the blade away but gives one final death look to Crowley, who was making his way to the liquor cabinet.

"Castiel!" Martha greets as she comes down the stairs. "It' been a while!"

"It sure has." Castiel meets Martha at the bottom of the stairs and his surprised when she hugs him. After a few seconds, he hugs her back under Sam's warm smile. "Welcome to our home."

Martha breaks off her hug with Castiel and looks around. They weren't kidding when they said it was a big place. The bunker seemed never-ending and it reminded Martha of the headquarters to Torchwood.

Jack would love it here.

"It's amazing." Martha let out a smile. "Now, where's my patient?"

"Yes!" Dean begins walking towards the hall "Come, I'll take you-"

"Dean, I believe you should rest." Castiel interrupts. Dean shows him a hard look.

"You look rattled."

"I'm fine."

"You don't. Cassie's new form has a new influence over you. Who knows what can happen."?

"Nothing happened!"

"You just said-"

"Guys," Sam cuts in. He looks at Martha and smiles "Can you give us a moment?"

"Sure."

Sam, Castiel, and Dean disappear into the hall, leaving Martha alone. The young Doctor was looking around the map room, deep into the amazing structure of this bunker.

"Jack would love this, no?" Martha's blood grows cold.

Sitting at the top of the table, Crowley had a whiskey in one hand, feet on the table a wicked smile in his face. He blinks and his eyes turn black as night.

Martha tries to save face.

"Who?"

"Oh no, my dear. We are both intelligent beings. Don't insult me."

Martha looks back at the other room where Sam, Dean, and Castiel continued to talk in a low voice. When she looks back at Crowley, he is looking back at her. "They have no idea who you are."

"No."

Crowley lets out a smirk and shakes his head.

"You know something Sam and Dean hate more than demons? Lies. No sex in the world can heal that wound. Especially, one like this."

"So, you knew me all along?"

"I've known you for a while, flower. I dare to say I admire your courage and I'm surprised it doesn't walk hand in hand with recklessness, unlike a pair we both know and love" Crowley replies, nodding at Winchester's direction. Then, returning to Martha "I'm the King of Hell. I know everyone. I even know about your little friend in the police box!" Crowley opens his mouth in a fake surprise expression. Martha's heart beats faster. "Don't worry. I don't care about him. What I care is way above your paygrade."

"Where do you know Jack from?"

"From other parties' way before your lifetime, sweetheart," Crowley adds. "Who do you think told him about the BMOL, the Winchesters, and all we are? Me. There are things that the Winchesters have here that I want but I can't get. If Jack gets them on our side, I get access to their valuable vault. That's the deal. I get him the Winchesters and he gets me inside their vault. " Crowley looks at his whiskey "Any further queries take it to someone who cares."

Martha looks away.

Jack knew Crowley all along and there was something in it for him. Jack's plan wasn't something 'brand' new. Somehow, she felt betrayed.

Sam and Castiel were walking back to Martha when Crowley takes his whiskey all in one sip and then proceeds to stand. He buttons his tailormade suit and pockets his hands.

He stands next to Martha, close enough she can hear him.

"You're way over your head, my dear. What's in there will kill you, the Winchesters, Castiel, and me in a blink of an eye." He then looks at her. "Run while you can."

"If you know me you know I don't run away from things."

"Oh, I know that flower," Crowley adds as he walking away. "And it will be the death of you."

Sam, Crowley, and Castiel both accompany Martha to were Cassie is lying down. As Castiel opens the door, they see Cassie still lying on the thin mattress under dim light.

Crowley instinctively takes a step back.

"You don't mind if I stay behind, do you?"

Castiel and Sam ignore his remark walking inside the room, followed by Martha. Around them, bookshelves, boxes, and other objects were scattered all over the place.

Martha kneels next to the young woman and turns her face.

"Oh my God," The young doctor gasps. "I know her!"

"You do?" Sam asks kneeling right next to her.

"Yeah, she's been missing for months, I believe." Martha lets out a gasp. "I've seen her on tv!"

"What?"

"I have, yes!" Martha remembers. "She's a journalist and was working on some case before she went missing. There are wild theories about her online!"

Martha picks up her phone quickly typing something. She then turns the phone to Sam who quickly reads the missing person's report that showed a picture of Cassie.

"It's her," Martha replies. "I mean, she's a bit skinnier, but it is her."

Then, out of nowhere, the lights flicker above their heads and Cassie's hand shoots out grabbing Martha's neck. Sam moves aside quickly grabbing his gun and pointing at the target and Castiel is ready with his angel blade.

Cassie was holding on tight to Martha, with her right hand coping her neck and the left hand under chin in a very complicated position. Martha's face was facing the furthest wall, away from Sam's face. Cassie is looking directly at Sam with eyes as dark as night.

"One move and this little bird's neck goes snap!" Cassie's voice comes out like a million voices. She applies some pressure to Martha's neck and the young doctor lets out a scream.

"Alright! Alright!" Sam replies putting his hands up. He puts the gun aside.

"What do you want?" Cassie shows him a dark smile.

"Get your brother in here. Now. Tell him Cassie wants to say hi."

"Is Cassie in there with you?"

Cassie applies pressure against Martha's neck again and the young woman screams again.

"Don't ask stupid questions, little boy," Cassie demands. "Also, tell your little angel friend to open the door up. My friends will be here soon."

"What friends?"

Cassie applies the pressure to Martha's neck again to a point where another pull and Martha's neck would break.

"Ask me another question and see what happens. Get your brother. Now!"

Out of nowhere and for everybody's surprise, Crowley appears behind Cassie's back and holds a hand over her forehead. He begins whispering words without sense that made Cassie's eyes roll white and release Martha. Sam quickly pulls Martha close to him as he watches Cassie's body fall to the side with white eyes. Her mouth was mimicking the same words Crowley was saying while his hand was on her forehead. With a head motion, Sam takes Martha out of the room with Castiel.

"Crowley!" Sam calls out.

Crowley takes a deep breath. He had to move fast and quick to get to that door before Moloch would break from this spell.

In a split moment, Crowley takes his hand out of Cassie's forehead and bolts to the door without looking back.

Sam closes the door right away, slamming it in Cassie's face. Her body slams against the door. Her face shows up in the little window showing her black eyes and with expressions contorted into animalistic form. She screams, growls, spits, and scratches the door on the other side.

"Oh my God!" Martha backs away in horror as Sam protects her with his body. "What's wrong with her?"

Dean comes running from down the hall. His eyes lock on Cassie and she immediately calms down. Her face continues to look like a beast, with eyes as dark as night, but she was calm.

"Cassie," Dean calls her.

Cassie opens her mouth to unhuman width and lets out a guttural scream that makes all of them fear for their lives. She then tosses her head back and smacks it against the window painting it red. Her eyes lock on Dean as blood trickles down her face.

"I'm going to kill every single one of you."


	8. Chapter 8

Here's another one. Thank you for following. It's a work in progress

* * *

VIII - DOMINION

**BEFORE**

It didn't take long for Anne to find Reuben. When she opened the door to the bathroom, she found him on the floor surrounded by pieces of broken, glass sitting in a pool of his blood. Anne took a brief look at the mirror above the sink to find a space where it once was. She looked back at Reuben whose life was slowly leaving his body.

"What did you do?"

Reuben, whose face was a new shade of white, slowly opened his eyes. He took a while to recognize Anne looking down on him and then proceeded to smile.

"You will never have Cassie's soul." He let out with difficulty. "It's out there. It's not yours."

Anne begins to walk towards the toilet and sat carefully. With easy, she crossed her legs and stare right at Reuben. She took a second to appreciate the moment of his death with imminent curiosity.

"You didn't think this through, did you?"

"I did what my conscious demanded. I failed her. I had to redeem myself."

"Put Cassie in an eternity of pain?" Anne replied with furrowed brows. "Do you know what happens to the soul who wanders without a destination? They go mad. A slow and agonizing descent into madness, pain, anger. They don't disappear. They remain here. Aware and conscient that they are dead. How is that better?"

"At least, she's not with you. I don't care about what you think Anne. I see it in your eyes. You are disgusted by my action. You feel I've betrayed the organization. "

Anne continues in silence. One of the twins with red hair appeared at the door and stood in complete silence.

"I'm not thinking anything of the sort, Reuben. You did what your conscience demanded of you. After all, this is a way to amend to the fact that you fooled her during her search and actively participated in her demise. Don't think I didn't see you rejoicing when Moloch came to be. Your conscious came later." Anne replied in a calm tone. Reuben takes a look at her. "I'm thinking of your wife and how will she react to your absence?"

Reuben's eyes reflect the image of fear, once he realized where Anne was going with this. He suddendly understood that Anne had not raised her voice, nor yelled or threatened him in any way. He wasn't going to be the focus of her revenge. His family was.

"I've been thinking your anniversary is soon coming up, no? I bet your wife will be devasted to hear of your death so close to celebrating another year of life in a union. But, don't worry I'll make sure she'll always remember you and know you're always around. As a present, I was thinking of sending her your heart inside a box." Reuben's eyes swell with tears and Anne's eyes glow in malice. "Your son's birthday is next, correct? I'm thinking I'll probably send him your eyes because, you know, 'Daddy will always look out for you, son'. Your daughter's birthday is closer to the end of the year so I believe ears are the right gift, so she knows no matter where u are you will always listen to her."

"Anne..."

"I will never let your family forget you, Reuben." Anne declared in a dry tone. "Even if they move from your house, the state, the country...They will never forget you because I won't allow them. All important dates to you and your family will be plagued with a piece of you: a finger, a toe, your nose, your tongue...I will exhaust your family from you until there's nothing left from you to give and they are shattered. Your wife will die from heartbreak and anguish. Your daughter will develop a severe anxiety disorder and be nervous about any package she sees. Your son will become depressed, neurotic, and on the verge of psychosis. You will haunt them. Follow them. They will remove your pictures from the house, avoid mentioning your name, and separate themselves from anything that remotely reminds them of you. All of this will happen while they have no idea why or who is doing it or seeing an end to it - I will make sure of that. There will be no solution to your case. You will not be declared dead. Your family will not mourn you because there will be nobody to mourn over. No mourning will be allowed. Your family will know you never left them, but also they will hate your memory because your death brought them misery. They will never know what happened, why it happened, where it happened. They will never find us. Never see us. We will haunt them. I will make sure of that."

"Anne, please..."

Anne ignores Reuben's pleas as she walks out of the bathroom, leaving the twin with Reuben. In two large steps, the twin was closer to the older man and squatted in front of him. With no mercy, the twin picks up Reuben's knife and aimed it to hit his heart.

"Do you know your mother still cries for you and your brother?" Reuben asked looking into the twins' eyes.

The twin made a small pause. Then, jabbed the knife inside Reuben's chest and twists killing him quickly.

As Anne walked out of the room, she could hear the commotion going downstairs. Her plan had worked. Moloch was alive and well, ready to take the world by storm and ravish it all. It was a matter of time. The next step was to go to the place where it all began, open the gate to nothingness and let the darkness swallow the world. Moloch will reign supreme, the world as it is known will crumble like a deck of cards. Nothing will matter. No God. No Devil. No Heaven. No Hell. Just one ruler amid chaos and destruction that brings about the new world order created in his image.

As she walked back to the commotion, she suddendly stops. She felt watched. Someone's eyes were glued to her and she knew exactly who it was. It was not the first time she had felt this type of presence, but this time she knew she had caused an impression. By now the word would be out there that a new ruler had arrived. They were probably shaking in their boots at the sight of Moloch and his new form.

The twin approached her with his knife still in hand.

"Problem?"

Anne looked back at the twin.

"Get your brother and the others. We have guests."

"The same as always?"

"Yes, but make sure they know this time is different."

Not that far away, Crowley was standing closer to the road but hidden by all the trees and the darkness. As he saw the poor young man run for his life through the thick forest, Crowley knew things were not going well. The energy was so powerful in that place that he could see through walls, feel it's touch and power against his skin. It felt like that moment before the drop on a roller coaster: your heart is racing, you're anxious, nervous, fearful of what's coming. Would it be a steep drop? Will it go very fast? Was your seatbelt on properly? Would you fly off the chair at the first curve?

As the ceremony progressed, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He watched as Ruby dies quickly, as Anne brought on the sacrifices for the night, as Moloch ate the girl's heart.

Crowley cursed himself. They were too late.

He knew of Anne and her legion for quite some time now. Mistakenly, he never thought they had a chance. Bringing something as big and powerful as Moloch would take years, centuries, lifetimes to achieve. All the sacrifices, all the rituals, all the waiting for the right moment it was enough to drive anyone mad, but they never gave up. Their bloodlines were resistant, strong and their belief unshaken. The level of devotion was something he had never seen before. Crowley had been so busy doing his demon things, he didn't even realize the real threat had already arrived. If he were human, he'd probably feel a wave of guilt right now. At this moment, he just stares with a concerned look.

Kneeling next to him was Naomi, the current higher ranking in Heaven. The Demon King and leader of the Angels weren't exactly friends, they loathed each other, but this moment required both their presence as both their existences were on the line.

Naomi was kneeling on the dirty ground, holding her chest, with tears running down her face and a look of pure fear.

Suddenly, a gut-wrenching scream cuts the night and there's a shift in the energy. The air is dense, the night becomes darker and the temperature drops in a way that even Crowley felt chills. The energy that came from the place is palpable, visible and a testament to Moloch's power.

"We're screwed," Crowley adds when he senses Moloch has come to be. At the same time, Naomi releases a wail and tears. "Are you going to cry forever?"

"What is happening?" Naomi inquired between sobs and tears. "How did we get here? How could we miss this?"

"We got cocky, that's why! All the other times they tried, it never worked. We watched them closely, but we never thought Anne would pull this off." Crowley replied walking away with hands in his pockets. "We thought we had time. We thought they wouldn't make it. That didn't happen! We were miles away from them." Crowley kicks a rock and it disappears into nothingness. "Fuck!"

"They are going to kill us. Moloch is going to kill the world."

Crowley let out a heavy sigh. He stopped staring at the moon.

"Better start packing, then."

Naomi quietly stood steps behind him wiping away the tears from her eyes with her dirty hands. Her emotions were so grand that her vessel had expressed exactly what the angel was feeling into a physical reaction.

"Did you get the files to the Winchesters?"

Crowley looked down at the dirt beneath its feet. With his vision, he could see all the living creatures squirming around.

"Does it matter now?"

"They can help us, Crowley!"

"How?" Crowley replied in exasperation facing Naomi. "We both saw what happened. We have a creature that's older and more powerful than both of us, than all the angels, demons, archangels, horseman combined. Not even Lucifer would dare! How do you expect us to win this?"

"They always find a way," Naomi retorted. "They always have faith. Give the file to Sam and Dean, if you spark their interest they will follow the lead."

"They are not idiots!"

"But they're bold and will put everything right again." Naomi plead. "We made a mistake Crowley. We allowed them to carry this right on our porch. We have to fight them and stop this before Moloch reaches the peak of his powers. The Winchesters, they can help"

"The who now?"

Both Crowley and Naomi turned to look at the man with red hair that came out of the darkness of the woods. He was tall, handsome, dressed in black, and had a menacing look. There was something about him that made the demon take a step back and, unknowingly, reach out his arm so Naomi could stand behind him. "Hi. I'm Neil. That's my brother, Zack." The twin pointed at his brother who showed up behind the pair. The twin waved a knife. "He doesn't speak much, but you'll find that he can express himself rather well with that knife. And these are my friends."

Quickly, a handful of men came out of the darkness surrounding Naomi and Crowley. All dressed in black, all very tall and strong with that same eerie feeling about them. The men carried long knives and had this blank stare in their eyes. Neil pointed the edge of his knife at both Crowley and Naomi.

"What a pair," Neil added with surprise. "It's like the beginning of a joke: A demon and an angel are lost in the woods."

Crowley firstly stared at Neil, then at all the men surrounding them, who glared back with intensity. There were two of them and ten of them. The tension was obvious. Crowley and Naomi were overpowered, outnumbered, outgunned and in an environment, they had no control over. Finding themselves surrounded, Crowley understood that this could end very quickly for both creatures.

"Now, fellas...we came in peace-"

"Doesn't mean you'll leave in peace." Neil retorted. He glared Naomi up and down, letting out a small growl. "Demons, I can stand. Now, Angels..." With no care, he spat on the ground and snared in disgust. "I'll eat your wings for breakfast."

Naomi twisted her wrist with agility and her Angel blade slid down the sleeve of her jacket.

"Well, I'll make sure you choke on them."

Neil let out a smirk.

"Let's see."

Crowley put his arm in front of Naomi stopping her from lunging at Neil.

"We're leaving."

"I don't know if my mother would appreciate that."

"Who? Anne?" Crowley let out a scoff and a smirk. "She's not even human, let alone a mother."

A gush of wind flew by Naomi's face as a knife wooshed past her ear and landed on Crowley's left shoulder. Behind him, Zack retrieved his hand just as quickly and grabbed another knife.

Crowley could feel his entire being shake. Usually, he didn't feel this type of pain, as he was a Demon. Few or no weapons on this Earth could harm him or kill him, in the worst scenario. Nonetheless, there was something in this knife. Something that made him fall to his knees and take his breath away. He felt it burn and dig into his skin, burning his ancient vessel.

"Careful, Zack is rather protective of Anne."

Naomi knelt next to Crowley.

"Are you alright?"

Crowley musters as much air as he can. He was beginning to see spots around his eyes and the pain on his shoulder was beginning to become too intense for him to handle. Yet, he grabbed Naomi's arm, pulling her closer whispering:

"We have to go. Now."

"What about...?"

"We have to go. I'll get to Dean, but the only way he'll listen is if you get Castiel, as well."

"I'll summon him."

Neil approached the odd pair and crouched in front of them, showing his own black eyes.

"Who are these cartoon characters you keep talking about?"

And, just as they appeared, the Demon King and Angel ended up disappearing leaving the twins and their friends alone in the woods.

Unsurprised, Neil slowly got up to his feet. He turned to one side of the group demanding,

"Follow the Angel. Get me her wings. "

With the ground of men disappearing into the darkness of the woods. Then, he turned to the other side, especially his brother, ordering,

"Winchesters," He looked at Zach who nodded in agreement. "Let's see who they are."

Moloch was ravishing himself on the heart of one of the sacrifices. He needed to get back to his full capacity, so he could open the gates into nothingness and bring the darkness into the world. Around him, his followers were high on the magic in the air. Some had removed their clothes and were dancing to no music. Others were writing on the floor with blood. Others were cutting themselves. Some were having sex right next to him. A handful was laying down at his feet whispering away words of power and devotion.

Slowly, Moloch felt his powers come back.

"Her soul has escaped," Moloch announced, as he heard Anne's steps approaching.

The bald woman stops close enough to protect herself from any sudden movement the old God might throw her way.

"She has, yes" The Priestess confirmed.

Then, out of nowhere, one follower, who was close by, began to scream at the news as if it was something utterly terrible. She started scratching her arms, slapping her face and yelling obscenities at Anne for letting Cassie escape. Her face grew red, she spat as she yelled and her voice echoed throughout the cave. In a fit, she had ripped her clothes showing her saggy breaths, protuberant belly, and flaccid skin.

With ease, Anne slowly raised her hand at the follower. The woman let out one final scream, before dropping to her knees and dying right there.

Moloch took one final look at the follower. From the woman's mouth, a blue light came out floating by. The old God begins walking towards the corpse and then grabbed the small light, putting it into his mouth. The energy of the souls would make him even stronger. He would heal faster and have more than enough energy to open the gate to nothingness.

"I felt a demon presence close by," Moloch questions after eating the woman's soul. "It smelled like a rat."

"It was Crowley."

Moloch begins sucking on his blood-soaked fingers one by one.

"I heard of his name."

"He was with an Angel."

Moloch stops sucking his fingers to look at Anne.

"Are those pigeons still around?"

"Very much so," Anne concluded. "They have been watching us for quite some time. Hoping we would fail. I believe we have caught them off guard."

Moloch's face then turns into an expression of pain. The old God closes his eyes and started twitching, being pulled violently from one side to another. This only lasted a few moments but was enough to make Anne concerned for her master.

Moments pass before Moloch could open his eyes.

"The echo inside this vessel is very loud." He replied shaking the feeling off. With his dark eyes and animalistic face, he stared back at Anne. "Who are the Winchesters and why is my vessel calling out to them?"

Anne let out a heavy sigh.

Fucking hell!

She knew very well that Cassie had dated the hunter back in the day, but it was so long ago, how could she still remember him or even call them?

"They are hunters." Neil interrupts as he approached the pair, with Zack steadily behind him. He offered a small bow, before continuing to speak. "They are pretty well known in the supernatural world. They were the ones who opened the gates of Hell."

"Are they a threat?" Moloch inquired in his million voices.

Suddendly, the entire room had gone quiet and all eyes were on the twin, who accepted the attention without wavering. It was like every single member in that cave was a representation of Moloch. One of his tentacles.

"Possibly. However, we have a way to get to them."

Naomi is dragged into the room by her feet by the men. She had put up one hell of a fight as she had markings all over her face. A busted lip, a swollen and bloodshot eye, her arm was twisted in a very peculiar way and half her clothes were ripped to pieces. There was blood, dust, and dirt on her, most belonging to her, but some belonging to the men she managed to hurt in the process.

Moloch approached Naomi, putting his nose on her neck and sniffing deeply. Then, he looked at her with dark eyes and spits right into her face.

"You fuckers..." He hols Naomi by the neck as squeezes. "Do you know how much I hate you guys? I do. Oh, how I do! I hate everything that God of yours ever made, starting by the lot of you!"

Moloch violently throws Naomi's face away from him.

"She was at one of the gates of Heaven waiting on Castiel," Neil added "She had a hand full of Angels with them. They are all dead."

"So are some of your little pals, red!" The Angel replied in defiance. In reply, Neil punched her again in the face, making the Angel spit blood.

"Who is this Castiel?" Moloch inquired unfazed.

"He's the right man for the Winchesters," Neil answered. "Apparently, he has some kind of reputation."

Moloch approached Naomi again, pulling her chin up to him and looking directly into her eyes.

"You're an old Angel," God concluded. "Experienced. Seen war. Seen defeat and victories. Loves humans. Bows down to that thing you call God..." His hand slid down to Naomi's throat and begins to squeeze. "None of that matters, when the darkness arrives. I will get to all of them. But first, I want these Winchesters and that Castiel angel."

"Is that wise?" Anne dared to ask boldly. Moloch's head turned so fast, the bald woman jumped a little bit. "I mean, we shouldn't detour from our path. These Hunters are nothing. If we detour, we'll be losing time and wasting energy."

Moloch reached out his hand in Anne's direction. The woman fell to her knees feeling the air flee from her. The twins' immediate reaction was to go their mother's aid, but Anne had ordered them to not approach with her hand. This was a demonstration of power. A way to Anne to understand who really was in charge. As Anne opens her mouth, a dark matter begins pouring out of her, just like it had happened to Ruby.

"Just because you're at my side, Anne," Moloch adverted in a menacing tone, "It doesn't mean I won't' turn you and your minions into dust,"

Anne had suffered for a few more seconds before the old God let her go. The bald woman fell gasping, as the air slowly returned to her.

The old God looked at Naomi who was still under his grip.

"Now, answer me this and I'll let you go: Where can I find Castiel and the Winchesters?"

"I'd rather die,"

Moloch let out a small chuckle in amusement.

"Would you? Aren't you a powerful little angel!" Quickly, the old God throws his free hand in front of him, close to Naomi's hand. The Angel's eyes are opened with surprise as she felt the old God's hand on the top of her invisible wing. Suddendly, there's a loud crack, and the Angel screams in pain. "Now, will you reconsider?"

Moloch pushes the Angel on the ground as Naomi materialized her wings, with one showing up bent in an impossible way and her feathers burnt. The Angel cried seeing the state of her wings. Slowly, she gets to her knees putting her hands together in front of her chest.

"I can't believe it..." Neil remarks. "Are you praying?"

Then, the Angel stopped looking at the old God.

"I managed to get a call out to meet Castiel at one of the entrances of Heaven. He is on his way to see me."

"Where is this place?"

Naomi takes a pause for a few seconds, considering an offer.

"If I tell you, will you let me go?"

"Of course." Moloch shrugged and smiled. "Why wouldn't I?"

Naomi disclosed the information without a second thought as Moloch listened carefully. Without saying any word, Neil and Zack retrieve into the darkness probably to look for the said entrance, accompanied by the rest of the men.

"Will you let me go?" Naomi inquired.

Moloch approached the Angel, coming down to her level and grabbing her by the neck.

"I will let you go, but not to where you want to."

* * *

**NOW**

Martha slumps down on a chair holding her neck. It was as if she had a knot right on her throat that wouldn't let her speak properly. Sam hands her a glass of water that she drinks as if she'd been walking in the desert for hours.

"What in the world was that?" She asks with a hoarse voice, trying to find the normal pace for her breath. Her neck is sore from the squeeze and the position Moloch had held her in. Sam retrieves the glass of water and hands her a bag of ice.

"How's your neck?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Martha replies in a haste. She looks right at Crowley, who stands in the corner, looking back to the room where Moloch is retained. "You saved my life. How did you do that?"

"I saved all of us. Don't flatter yourself." Crowley replies with little enthusiasm and including all the bitterness in the world. The Demon begins walking back and forth when suddenly, he looks at Dean. "See, when I came to you with that file regarding the souls this is what I was trying to avoid!"

"What are you talking about?" Dean asks as he leans against the table. "You gave me that file yesterday."

"I know!" Crowley explodes. "We failed. We all failed."

Crowley falls in silence under the gaze of all the people in the room. He paces back and forth, back and forth under the gaze of the group who continues to stare at him waiting for an explanation.

"Want to start from the beginning, Crowley?" Sam asks.

Crowley stops. With a quick movement from his hand, he pulls a chair closer to him and takes a seat.

"Before Heaven and Hell, there were these ancient creatures. They were as powerful as God himself, if not more. They were worshiped across the land and that was how they survived. An old God, and God in fact, including the one we know now, is alive through prayer and sacrifices. That's what makes then God's. You have to believe, you have to have faith, you give gifts and its enough for them to live for millennia. Take that away and a God loses power and becomes mortal, essentially.

When God decided he wanted his creations to love only one God: Him. He, with the help of a few of his minions, began tossing Gods into the Nothing. Nothing means exactly that: Nothing. No prayer, no sacrifice, no one to have faith in you, or ask you for protection or guidance. Your followers would forget you and you would wither and died. God managed to toss a lot of the ancient Gods into the Nothing, but one stood strong: Moloch. He couldn't beat him.

So, God, becoming the frustrated little boy he is, gathered a few of these Gods he wanted to get rid of and struck a deal: Help him put Moloch into the Nothing and they would be spared. And so they did. In a battled that raged for days, the Gods eventually defeated Moloch, and God tossed him into the Nothing."

"How did he get out?" Martha inquires with a hoarse voice.

"The followers feed the Gods. Even in the Nothing, Moloch had followers that could live forever: Demons. God's own fallen creation had fallen in love with his enemy. It only took one Demon to keep Moloch's memory alive. Despite being sent into the Nothing, the Demon could easily reach him and found out that the first Seal to bring Moloch into being was to convert a holy one. That's what they did..." Crowley looks at Sam. "Your friend, Ruby, she started all of this. After that, with the help of others, she grew and the entire following of Moloch grew with her. Giving him powers through sacrifices and trying, one by one, to find him a vessel. That right there..." Crowley points to the hallway that led to the room where Moloch is locked in. "Is the result. One of the first, the oldest, the cruelest of Gods has found a human form. It took years, failed attempts, many dead but they did it.

'His followers have grown in numbers over the years and have a wide range that can go from a farmer in the middle of nowhere, to the world's richest man. They have been trying for years, years, and years to get the right person to be the vessel for Moloch. We have been monitoring them closely, anticipating any movement...

"Wait..." Sam interjects, "You _knew_ about this?"

"We knew about it, but there wasn't much we could do. The odds of finding a true vessel for such an ancient and powerful spirit were very low."

"So, you _allowed_ it to happen?"

"We are not gatekeepers of what happens on Earth. If we were, you'd have no job to do, now would you?"

"What about the missing souls?" Dean asks,

"Despite the souls being missing, which in perspective it wasn't that big of a number in comparison to the total of souls we receive every hour, we didn't do much about it. Yes, Heaven and Hell run on souls, but the number wasn't that big of a deal. Do you know what that was?"

"What?"

"Marketing. It was the only way to get you guys on board, but it was too late."

Dean shakes his head in disbelief. Castiel takes the lead in the conversation.

"Why did we allow this to happen? Who made this decision?"

"Who do you think?" Crowley replies. "Your boss and mine, of course!

The Demons and Angels gathered and we decided to allow them to continue like we allow any other pagan monster out there. If we eradicate Moloch's followers, we would have to do the same for the witches and other organizations that don't believe in Heaven or Hell.

"So, what happened? Moloch had followers, but something changed for us to get here, right?"

'What we didn't account for was Anne. She's...something else. She has the Sight, meaning she's human, but she can come and go to Hell and Heaven whenever she pleases. She has powers, she can see Demon's, kill Angels. She's the Priestess, the one running the entire show and has been for a while. Under her command, things picked up. Especially, after she died..."

"How did she die?" Martha asks.

"She didn't. That's the thing." Crowley explains. "She made a deal with Moloch, gave up her soul for eternal life, meanwhile breaking one of the seals for his cage. After that, not only were there more sacrifices, more souls were being taken from Heaven and Hell, furthermore, they were getting more results."

"How does Cassie fit into his?" Dean asks, after a moment of silence.

"Anne is Cassie's mother."

Dean scoffs.

"Hold up. Cassie's mother is dead."

"Oh no, Anne did die. For the rest of the world at least." Crowley adds. "Anne is a very powerful woman, Cassie has that same energy within her which would make her a perfect vessel. It all comes down to the bloodlines. I guess it worked."

"So Cassie is with them?"

"No, she wasn't," Crowley explains. "Her mother runs the show. Cassie and her father were civilians. Anne mixed her bloodline with Cassie's father in order to create the perfect vessel."

"Why didn't she tell me this?"

"Because she most likely didn't know," Crowley concludes. Dean falls silent with an inquisitive look in his face. Crowley turns to Castiel "Did you meet with Naomi?"

Cass frowns.

"No. I received a message from her to meet at one of the entrances to Heaven, but no one was there."

Crowley puts his hands on his forehead, suddendly he realizes he's been sweating.

"Were there signs of a struggle?"

Castiel approaches the Demon king with a concerned look.

"Is she alright?"

"Possibly yes. Possible dead. Most likely the latter" Crowley wipes his hand on his leg and looks at the rest of the group. "Yesterday, or two days before, I don't even know anymore, there was a ceremony for Moloch to be introduced to his vessel. Naomi and I were there. Mostly, hoping it wouldn't work, like it never did the other hundreds of times, but this time it worked. Anne had something, she didn't have before: She had Cassie. We met some of Anne's goons. One of them gave me a surprise gift."

Crowley quickly removes his jacket, then his shirt, and shows his shoulder. Where the knife had hit, is now an infected wound oozing pus. His veins are visible, spreading down his shoulder blade and the wound is swollen.

"What kind of weapon could have done that to you?" Sam wonders, with a mist of curiosity.

"I have no idea," Crowley responds putting his shirt back on. "It hasn't knocked me out yet, but-"

"I still don't get how Cassie fits here." Dean breaks his silence, coming in between the conversation. "So, her mom is the Queen bitch here. So what? Why is she down there and not any other guy?"

"Didn't you hear me?" Crowley replies in a fisty manner. "For years and years, they tried to find a vessel. It never worked. Want to know why? Because most people were just 'people', they wanted people who were different. It's in the blood! Anne showed them that. That's why, all of the sudden, the number of souls increased and the number of dead people as well. Look at the file I gave you. At first glance, none of the victims are connected - because it's not something exterior, it's something internal. Good or bad, doesn't matter. It's the bloodline that connects them all. Ruby's blood! She was the first to break the seal it's her blood in all of these people. In Anne and, therefore, in Cassie.

"Cassie has the Sight?" Dean inquires.

"No. Cassie is as human as one can be, however she does have the bloodline which, accompanied with the right ritual, would make her a strong vessel, but it wouldn't be easy. Cassie has been missing for six months, that's the amount of time it took to break her spirit and to leave her vulnerable enough. They had to destroy her ego, broken her mind into a million pieces for her to be perfect. Cassie needed to die, physically and spiritually, for Moloch to appear."

"What about her soul?" Sam asks.

"Destroyed, most likely," Crowley explains. "Cassie is dead."

The room falls silent as they realize the information they have in their hands.

Dean's phone, which was at the map table, begins to ring. Dean was going to ignore but, after looking at the screen he changes his mind. "Cassie is calling me."

"What?" Sam's inquiries confused.

Dean picks up the phone, shows the screen to his brother, and then puts it on speaker.

"Who's this?"

From the other side, it takes a while, but a shaken voice comes on.

_"Is this...D-Dean Winchester?"_

Dean glances around. Sam shrugs and tells him to confirm his identity.

"Yeah. Who's this? Why are you calling me from Cassie's number?"

_"My name is Milo. I was her assistant. She told me to call you."_

Dean raises an eyebrow.

"She told you?"

_"Yes."_ Milo takes a deep breath. _"Can we meet? Please?"_

"Where are you?"

_"I-I'm close by. I believe I'm in your town. She didn't leave me an exact address, just the name of the town and your number"_

Dean exchanges a look with Sam, who slowly stands up. Cassie still had Dean's number? Also, she knew where he lived?

"How do you know where we live?"

_"Cassie told me. I mean, she left me something about you."_

"Where are you staying?"

"At this Motel just out of the main road."

"Be there in twenty minutes. Don't open the door to anyone except me."

Dean hangs up the phone quickly. He understands his heart had skipped a beat when he saw Cassie's name on the phone. Quickly, he shakes it off. "Cass, you with me. Sam stay here with Martha, make sure she's okay. Crowley, you can do whatever you want..."

"Well, this is not exactly a friendly way of saying thank you."

"_Thank you_?" Dean returns with anger.

"Yes! I just gave you all the information you needed! I took a knife in the back and saved Sam's PYT from getting her neck snapped like a twig!"

Sam approaches Crowley, ready to punch in the face, but stops halfway.

"You're on thin ice here, Crowley."

"Oh, bite me, Moose." Crowley spits standing up for himself.

"You let all of this shit happen and now you want our help because you were too fucking lazy to do it yourself." Dean cuts, approaching the Demon king with a menacing tone. "Now, you're scared because, by the look of that wound over there, they are playing at a higher level than you. Playing with forces you don't know. This can kill you and you're scared shitless. That's why you came running to us, because we're the idiots who will put everything on the line to save those we care about, unlike you! I would look at his entirely different if you hadn't just said you knew about all of this all along and only came to us when the going got tough. Do whatever you want, stay, leave, or die for all I care. I want to save Cassie."

"No, you want to go down there and have your way with her body." Quickly, Dean jumps at Crowley grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. At the same time, Sam and Castiel both jump in between the two, pulling them apart.

"You shut up!" Dean growls as Sam pulls him away from Crowley.

"Don't you think I haven't noticed? You're all riddled up! It knows! It's attached to Cassie's body, her body recognizes you and it wants you! And you're willing to go! Do you think her lips taste the same? Do you think her skin is still as smooth? Or that she will suck you dry?"

Dean lunges again, but Sam holds him back. Castiel stands between all of them, separating Crowley from Dean.

"Dean, no!" The voice of his brother calms him down and Dean stops. "He wants to upset you. Go meet Milo. Get more information, we'll be here."

After a few moments later, Sam lets go of Dean and Castiel carefully backs away.

"I don't want you here when I come back," Dean appends with a cold look in his eyes, pointing at Crowley. "If I see you, I will skin you alive."

With no more information, he walks away, picking up his jacket and keys on his way up the stairs. Castiel follows him quietly.

* * *

Dean walks away from the bunker, followed by Cass. He comes out with the sun a bit lower, almost setting, so the entire forest has this orange filter to it. He stops a few steps away from the car, standing in the sun. Crowley isn't exactly lying: In one had, Dean is afraid for his life because that wasn't Cassie and, whatever it was, it swore to kill him and the others. On the other hand, he can't help but feel a weird pull towards it.

He closes his eyes for a second, under the setting sun. With no effort, he can taste Cassie's kiss and feel her tongue on his lips.

He opens his hands, putting a palm to his face quickly recognizing the cold sweats in his hairline.

"Are you okay?" Castiel questions with a concerned look, standing over his shoulder, like always.

"I feel like I'm on withdrawals," Dean responds, enjoying his time on the setting sun. "Like I want this drug like never before. Crowley is right, I want to go there and just..."

"If Moloch is in Cassie and if she's still inside, there is a chance she's calling out to you. Or Moloch is playing you and using Cassie's memories to get to you."

"That dream..."

"It felt real."

"So real, Castiel." Dean looks beyond the trees into nothingness. "We were never good for one another. She was stubborn, I was proud. I fell for her head over heels, but I left to find my dad. We-I mean, she broke it off with me, with good reason. We lost track of one another, but what I'm feeling..."

"Dean, you have to be strong. Understand that the person down there is not Cassie. If you come close to her, you'll lose yourself."

"I just want to..." Dean whispers the rest of the words to himself away from Cass's ears. He looks over his shoulder to Castiel and gives him a little smile. "None of this makes sense."

"You're talking to an angel, you have a demon in your living room and ancient God tied up in your basement. You're questioning sense?"

* * *

After the commotion in the map room, Sam directs Martha to his bedroom. She's surprised to see how small the bed is and wonders how he fits into it. His room is a reflection of who Sam is: clean, tidy, and with books here are there. It smells of him and Martha feels like she walked into Sam's heart.

Sam sits her on the bed, pulling up a chair and sitting in front of her. Carefully, he takes a closer look at Martha's neck. Gently, he runs his fingers on his lover's neck, intertwining his fingers in the back of her neck. Slowly, he moves Martha's neck from one side to the other and the doctor allows it. It's as if Martha was made of the finest glass and Sam was afraid he'd break it.

He stops, removing his fingers from her neck and grabbing her hands instead.

"How are you?" He questions, almost in a whisper. Martha looks at his eyes and sees that he is genuinely scared for her life. It's a concern she is used to seeing in Mickey's eyes and the Doctor's eyes whenever they were too close to danger. It's like she was a flower, so gentle and so soft, they have to protect her. Of course, Martha is no gentle flower, but she enjoys seeing the sentiment in their eyes. It makes her feel like she matters.

Martha puts her hand on his face, leans over, leaving him a gentle kiss in his lips.

"I'm fine." She answers with care, sealing her reply with another kiss in Sam's lips. "Thank you."

"You probably have questions."

"A few."

Sam nods and takes a moment to gather his thoughts. Martha already knows what is about to happen, but instead, she sits silently waiting for Sam's explanation.

"We hunt for a living, but not animals. We hunt supernatural entities. Dean and I travel the country saving people from all sorts of things from vampires, to werewolves, to...whatever...we find it and kill it. We've saved the world more times than we can count. We've met God, Lucifer, The Horsemen, and all the archangels. "

'Crowley is a demon. Castiel is an angel. I know this is a bit 'much', but it's the truth and I feel like now is the best time to come clear. Some of the wounds you have healed for us are not regular ones. We fight these creatures and we get hurt. Can't even tell you how many times we've died.

'That's it. That's what I do. And yes, I did fall down the stairs, but not because I tripped, but because Moloch shook this entire bunker, lost my balance, hit my head. Doesn't happen very often, but it happens. "

Martha accepts the information with calm. She knows all of this, but she wants Sam to be the one to tell her.

"I used to be in the military." Martha lets out. Sam's eyes grow bigger in surprise. "Back home, when I was in the first year as an intern, the strangest man appeared at my Hospital. He was amazing, funny, tall, and with big eyes. Had this brown suit with white Converse and was surprised by my intelligence. He said I was 'brilliant' and I fell in love with him, so much that I left everything behind I traveled to parts unknown of the Universe."

"The Universe?"

"Yes. He used a police box as a time machine. It wasn't a police box it was just stuck as one and he didn't know how to fix it." Martha remembers fondly, with a warm feeling spreading around her chest. "I saw planets disappear, stars explode, time warps, black wholes, purple planets, planets were everything was upside down, planets were there no such thing as female or male, planets made of diamonds, planets made of ice...all you can imagine I saw."

"You mean...?"

"He was an alien. I traveled with him, Sam."

"An_ alien_?"

"Yes."

"In a police box?"

"Yes."

Sam agrees, with nothing left to add.

"I left him because I needed to have a love for myself, but I wasn't mad or angry. I just left. One day, I receive a phone in the mail. It only had one number in it. His number. Attached to it was a note that said 'This is yours. If you ever need me, or just want to see the stars again, call me. I'll come running to you. Always. Doctor.'

"I'm jealous."

"Why?"

"Because he loved you."

Martha stops for a few seconds and then smiles

"I believe he loved me too, probably more after I left.

I finished my degree as a medical doctor in the military because they wanted to work with me, after all my travels. They wanted to know what I saw with the Doctor. I met Mickey-'

"Your ex-husband."

"Yes. Got divorced. Changed branches to something alternative with a friend and now I'm here."

"So, you're on a mission?"

"Yes."

"What's it about?"

Martha stops for a few seconds. She touches Sam's hair, then his face and his lips.

"You and your brother."

* * *

Dean knocks on the door of room 306. The sun was almost gone and there was a slight chill in the air. It was going to be a cold night, with no moon and no clouds in the sky.

Instantly, Castiel takes a look over his shoulder. There was nothing but a parking lot, a very poor gas station, and they the somewhat busy road.

"What is it?"

"I feel like we're being watched," Castiel explains. "I've had that feeling since we got out of the bunker."

Dean looks to the road as well, hoping to see something Cas couldn't see.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Let's just get this over with."

Not long after that, the door opens slightly and a young man shows his face.

"Dean?"

"Milo?" Milo nods in confirmation and Dean nods as well. He points at Castiel "This is Castiel, a friend. Mind if we come in?"

Milo opens the door to let the two men come in. The motel room is just like any other motel room. Pretty basic decoration, with dark tones, two twin beds, and a small table by the furthest wall. A small hallway leads to the bathroom that is also small. On the walls, basic paintings of a field and some boats in the ocean were the only decoration. The curtains are heavy, dark, and old. The room smells clean, but Dean is positive that, beneath these beds, there's a lot more than just dust.

On top of one of the beds were boxes, boxes on top of more boxes all sealed. Milo pulls two chairs out of the table, placing them in the middle of the room for Sam and Dean, while he sits down on the empty bed.

Suddendly, Dean notices that the blinds are closed, Milo has locked the door and there's a gun on the nightstand.

"What's with all the boxes?" Dean asks looking at them. "You're moving?"

"Cassie's work," Milo replies. "We were following up on these murders that were happening all over. She thought it was the work a serial killer, or a group of serial killers that would go around, take people and kill them.'

Milo hits one of the boxes.

"She wasn't wrong. It was a group of people." The young man stops with his lips quivering. His hand was trembling just slightly. "Cassie was obsessive about things and this case was her Holy Grail, you know? She was amazing! I was not a crime reporter. I'm a tech guy! I like gadgets! I wanted to go to tech conventions! Somehow, I started working with her, and I-" Milo stops talking. He takes off his glasses to wipe away his tears and swallows hard.

"You're safe with us," Castiel reassures the young man. "You can tell us anything."

Milo nods again. Puts his glasses again and takes a deep breath and sniffs.

"We were working on this case of the disappearances. It was a deep investigation. We believed every organization was in on it: the police, the news, the FBI, the coroner's office. People were going missing and no one was doing anything about it! Despite reaching all these places, getting all this information we didn't have a suspect or a murder weapon. No physical evidence that this or that organization was allowing it or behind these murders. It wasn't a solid case, so we couldn't exactly go forward with anything without solid evidence.

Cassie wanted some support, so we went to our director for coverage and approval to run the story, even with all the wholes. Reuben shut it down. It was a federal investigation! Us running the story based on conjecture alone would ruin the newspaper and, possibly, put us all in jail. So, he ordered us to stop it. He then asked me to put all these boxes in his car so he would keep it."

"What's inside the boxes?" Dean asks.

"Photographs, police reports, autopsy reports, family records...anything you can imagine. It's months and months of investigation. We did a better job than the police itself."

"When was the last time you saw Cassie?" Castiel asks.

"We had just finished presenting our case to Reuben, our director. He shut us down completely. Cassie went out to meet Mark."

"Who's Mark?" Dean questions.

"Her fiancé. He was a doucebag."

"Was?"

"He's dead," Milo adds. Castiel and Dean trade looks. "They both disappeared at the same time and place. Authorities thought that he had kidnapped Cassie because he was a bit obsessive about her."

"Was he abusive?" Dean asks, disliking this guy the more he was hearing about him.

"No, just controlling a bit. But after he showed up dead, the police just thought that he had killed her, hid her body somewhere, and killed himself. Practically a closed case."

"How come you have the boxes now...?" Castiel asks.

" I was putting the boxes in Reuben's car, but then I felt like I was being disloyal to Cassie, so I put them in my car and kept them with me. I thought Reuben was going to tear me apart, but he didn't say anything. He was very distraught for a while and was even worse after he reported Cassie missing."

"I see," Dean inquires "So, do you know what happened to Cassie?"

The young man stays quiet for a few moments.

"I don't know how to explain it." Milo begins. "You're going to think I'm crazy."

"I can take crazy," Dean adds. "What happened?"

Milo's lips quiver and tears begin to swell up in his eyes. He begins to spill everything he knew. According to his family, he had been missing for two weeks, he had been taken in front of the restaurant he was about to have a date in. How he had been taken without notice a few days ago, been kept in a cell, fed nothing but stale bread and drinking dirty water. No reason, no justification. He then explained how he woke up and

Cassie was there, but it wasn't her.

"It was like she was an evil version of herself," Milo explains. "It was her body, but not her."

He then proceeds to tell, in detail about the ritual and how he was scared for his life. He told about how Cassie almost stabbed him, but something stopped her. How the evil version came out of the mirror. The whispering, the chanting, the candles, the smell. The bald woman leading the entire ceremony and the people wearing hoods. As he spoke, Milo was reliving the situation. His entire body was shaking, his voice quaking as he spoke and rubbing his palms together to keep calm.

"Then, what happened?" Dean asks.

"Then, Cassie looks at me from the other side of the mirror and she mouths something."

"What did she say?" Castiel inquires.

"She said 'Dean Winchester," Milo replies, looking at Dean. "I had no idea what that meant, I just ran for my life. I managed to catch a ride in the middle of nowhere, taken to the hospital and that's where I was until a few hours ago. I checked myself out, couldn't be there anymore. I felt like I was being watched. They kept putting me to sleep, but I'd wake up in a panic. Cassie's last words stuck with me. I had no idea who you were."

"You said a bald woman was leading the ceremony?"

"Yes. She was the boss there. Her face was very familiar to me, but I couldn't quite pinpoint."

"Do you know her name?"

"No."

Dean and Cas exchange looks. Could that woman be Anne?

"So, you just ran?"

"I ran like my life depended on it. Cassie didn't kill me but, that woman might have. Hell, all of them. "

"No one followed you?"

"I want to think no one did, but I..." Milo looks at the room around him. "I don't feel safe. I think I'm going insane."

"Don't worry. You'll come with us. We'll keep you safe." Castiel replies reassuringly.

"How did you find out about me? You said Cassie left you something about me?"

Milo wipes his tears away.

"Yes. She did." He turns around and begins opening and closing some of the boxes. The fourth one he opens he takes out a red envelope, giving it do Dean. Dean opens it finding a small note and a pen drive inside. The note inside was quite simple, it said that if anything were to happen to Cassie, Dean should be contacted listing Dean's number and location. The pen was black and had the logo of the newspaper Cassie used to work.

"How did Cassie have my information?" Dean asks. "I haven't spoken to her in years."

"She used to mention you now and then, but I have no idea how she got to you either. The envelope was in one of the boxes, I saw it when I was packing to put in Reuben's car."

"What's in here?" Dean asks shaking the pen drive. Milo's shrugs. Dean pockets the envelope and the pen drive. "Alright. Let's get going. Grab all of this, we'll put it in the car and you'll stay with us."

The three men gather around and begin carrying the boxes out of the Motel. Despite being three men, it took a few trips to carry all the surprisingly heavy boxes. While placing the last box in the trunk of the car, Castiel felt something behind him. Instinctively, the Angel turns around to find nothing, but the feeling didn't abandon him. He walks away from the car, recognizing the feeling as the same one he had when he found Cassie on the side of the road. Someone or something was right there. The Angel reaches out his hand, touching the air in front of him. He felt a slight tingly sensation at the tip of these fingers and the air seemed to be vibrating in front of him. Then, he notices how quiet everything is all of a sudden. No cars, no birds, no honks, no people talking. It was like he was in a bubble with no sound.

Just as he turns to look back at Dean, who was walking back to the car with Milo, he sees a man with red hair coming up behind them with a knife in hand.

At the same time, Dean looks at Castiel who stares at him with an alarmed look, just to see behind him a group of four men coming behind the Angel.

It all happens so fast.

Castiel is grabbed by multiple hands and pinned to the concrete ground before he could even think about the situation. He feels something burning through his chest, as he tries to fight them but there are many and he's just one.

Dean takes off trying to help, but Neil grabs him from behind his jacket and pulls Dean down. The Winchester falls on his back, looking up at the man with long red hair.

"Dean Winchester, I assume?" The twin asks.

With agility, Dean stands in two feet. They had the same height and built, but the twin seemed like an opponent that would make a lot of damages.

"Who's asking?"

"The guys who're gonna kill you."

"Oh, didn't you know?" Dean smirks lifting his fists "You gotta get in line for that."

Neil takes out a long knife, twisting it in his hand with skill.

"Let's get going then,"

Neil lunges at Dean with his knife ready to attack. Dean blocks the attack, grabbing Neil by the wrist and delivering two solid punches right on his nose. The twin drops the knife and the Winchester kicks it out of sight. On his way to the third punch, Neil grabs Dean's fist and then jabs his head into Winchester's face, delivering a solid head bump. Dean loses balance, taking a few steps back while feeling something warm coming down his face. Neil then tackled Dean, lifting him off the floor and then dropping him down on the concrete ground hard. Dean doesn't know what hurts more: his nose or his back. Amidst the confusion of pain, Dean begins to feel something squeezing around his neck and a heavyweight on his chest. As the young man opens his eyes he sees the twin sitting on top of him and with both hands around his neck.

The two stare at one another with Dean realizing that the man on top of him, had black eyes and an animalistic look. Neil grabs Dean's head and smacks it twice against the concrete, leaving the Winchester dazed and confused about what was happening. Dean begins seeing spots around the face of the man. The air was beginning to flee from him. He could see spots around the twin's face and he was in so much pain, that he couldn't even fight the man. His eyes begin to close slowly, as his face becomes a new shade of purple...

Just as Dean was about to fall into unconsciousness, the tightness around his neck disappears.

From a distance, he could hear someone call his name.

"Dean! Dean!" Castiel falls next to his friend and begins shaking him awake. Dean gasps for air, with eyes wide open in a mix of surprise and anger. "It's okay. He's gone."

"What-What happened?" Dean asks confused. He growls as his entire body screams in pain. "What in the hell happened?"

"We were ambushed," Castiel explains. The Angel showed markings of putting up a fight against the men who had jumped him. His shirt was dripping blood. "They came out of nowhere."

"My head hurts."

"Careful. He slammed your head on the ground pretty hard. Wouldn't be surprised if you had a concussion."

"I think he broke my nose. Son of a bitch!" Dean looks at his friend. "You're bleeding."

Castiel looks down. He opens his shirt and sees a symbol carved in his chest.

"Oh no." He lets out. "I can't heal."

"Why?"

"Because this sigil won't allow me."

"Are you sure?"

"Certain. It's old but, I'm pretty sure they have blocked me from my powers."

"Who are these people?"

Castiel helps Dean stand up.

"They took the boxes." Castiel points out. The Impala's trunk was open and the boxes were gone. "Where's Milo?"

It didn't take long for them to find the young man. He was close by, on the ground with a knife stuck in his chest and clearly dead.

* * *

"What are you saying exactly?" Sam inquires.

"I came here to find more about the Men of Letters," Martha explains. "I was to become close to you, get any relevant information then pass them to Jack."

"Who's Jack?"

"My friend. He had his branch once, but they are no longer active. So, he had his own more focused on the supernatural."

Sam stares at Martha not understanding what was happening.

"How do you know of the Men of Letters?"

"We've worked with the British chapter a couple of times."

Sam stays silent for a couple of moments. He nurtured a deep hatred for the British Men of Letters. They had tortured him and were a bunch of lying bastards, who thought they were better than the Hunters.

"So, you knew who I was."

"I've always known." Sam's eyes grow wider. "Don't forget. I came to you when we first met. Not the other way around."

"So, you lied."

"Omitted."

"No, you _lied_." Sam reiterates. "You told me you were a doctor."

"I am."

"No, you're a secret agent. Out here gathering information on me and my brother."

"It's a bit more complicated than that."

"Then, what?"

Martha sighs heavily.

"My friend wants something that's in here. I don't know what it is, but there's something he wants to get an advantage on the Men of Letters."

"An advantage?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"My friend is old, _very old_..."

"How old?"

"Let's just say, he is as old as time itself, possibly..." Sam's eyes grow bigger. "And the BMOL know this. They know that Jack's immortality would be a groundbreaking moment. Jack's DNA could be the solution to many of our problems. From cancer to HIV/AIDS, to any other immune disease, Jack's DNA could hold the answer we are looking for. However, it comes at a cost of his life. He could be a walking crash test dummy cooped up in a lab somewhere, being probed, poked, tested, and cut open. He doesn't want that. I agree."

"But what does he want from here?"

Suddendly, the front door flings open and Castiel screams for Sam and Martha. The pair run out of the room, finding Castiel helping Dean come down the stairs.

"What happened?" Sam inquires, helping out his brother.

"We were jumped," Castiel explains. "Milo is dead and they took the information he had with him."

Together they help Dean take a seat at the table. The oldest Winchester had blood dripping from his wound in the back of the head and his nose.

"Son of a bitch broke my nose!" Dean replies as he takes a seat at the table.

"Let me take a look." Immediately, Martha begins to work on the oldest of the Winchester looking at his wounds. "It's not broken. Do you feel dizzy?"

"I'm pissed!" Dean screams as he kicks a chair. "Godammit."

"Can't Castiel heal you?" Sam wonders.

"I can't use my powers." Castiel opens his shirt to reveal a sigil written on his chest. "I'm practically mortal."

The group falls in silence not knowing what to do next.

Crowley approaches from down the hall, with a glass of whiskey in hand. The quartet stops and looks at the demon.

"You were followed."

Curiously, none of them remembered to mind the door, which was left wide open up above. So, when they hear the sounds of heels approaching from the upper level, they all look up and find a bald woman looking down.

"This quite a place you lot have here." They all look up to find a bald woman looking down at them. "I'm Anne. Mind if I come in?"


End file.
